••>*«««** 
.ii'it  zzi 


PRINCETON,  N.  J 


Presented  by  Dr.  F.  L.FcaH 


AC  8  . G82  1873 
Greg,  William  R 
Enigmas  of  life 


1809-1881 


Digitized  by  the  lnternet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


https://archive.org/details/enigmasoflife00greg_0 


Enigmas 


By  W. 


J 

R.  GREG. 


“The  Soul’s  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decayed, 

Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  Time  has  made." 

Waller. 


boston : 

JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  AND  COMPANY, 

Late  Ticknor  &  Fields,  and  Fields,  Osgood,  &  Co. 

1873. 


From  Advance  Sheets, 


University  Press:  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


PEEFACE. 


HE  following  pages  contain  rather  suggested  thoughts 


that  may  fructify  in  other  minds  than  distinct  prop¬ 
ositions  which  it  is  sought  argumentatively  to  prove. 
In  the  later  years  of  life  the  intellectual  vision,  if  often 
clearer,  usually  grows  less  confident  and  enterprising. 
Age  is  content  to  think ,  where' Youth  would  have  been 
anxious  to  demonstrate  and  establish ;  and  problems  and 
enigmas  which,  at  thirty,  I  fancied  I  might  be  able  to 
solve,  I  find,  at  sixty,  I  must  be  satisfied  simply  to 
propound. 

By  the  severer  class  of  scientific  reasoners  (if  I  have 
any  such  among  my  readers),  it  will,  I  am  aware,  be 
noted  with  disapproval  that  throughout  this  little  book 
there  runs  an  undercurrent  of  belief  in  twro  great  doc¬ 
trines,  which  yet  I  do  not  make  the  slightest  attempt 
to  prove.  I  have  everywhere,  it  will  be  said,  assumed 
the  existence  of  a  Creator  and  of  a  continued  life  be¬ 
yond  the  grave,  though  I  give  no  reason  for  my  faith 
in  either ;  though  I  obviously  do  not  hold  those  points 
of  the  Christian  creed  on  the  ordinary  Christian  grounds ; 
and  though  I  cannot  fail  to  be  conscious  that  these 
questions  underlie,  or  inextricably  mingle  with  nearly 


IV 


PREFACE. 


every  one  of  the  subjects  I  have  treated.  I  have  ap¬ 
proached,  with  some  pretension  to  philosophical  inves¬ 
tigation,  a  few  of  the  enigmas  of  human  life,  yet  have 
deliberately  evaded  the  two  deepest  and  darkest  of  all, 
and  precisely  the  two,  moreover,  whose  determination 
can  most  satisfactorily  solve  the  rest.  I  admit  the 
charge,  and  my  defence  is  simply  this. 

The  religious  views  in  which  we  have  been  brought 
up  inevitably  color  to  the  last  our  tone  of  thought  on 
all  cognate  matters,  and  largely  affect  the  manner  and 
direction  of  our  approach  to  them,  even  when  every 
dogma  of  our  early  creed  has  been,  if  not  abandoned, 
yet  deprived  of  its  dogmatic  form  as  well  as  of  its 
original  logical  or  authoritative  basis.  Not  only  are 
doctrines  often  persistently  retained,  though  the  old 
foundations  of  them  have  been  undermined  or  surren¬ 
dered  ;  but  beliefs,  that  have  dwelt  long  in  the  mind, 
leave  indelible  traces  of  their  residence  years  after 
they  have  been  discarded  and  dislodged.  It  would  be 
more  correct  to  say  that  they  linger  with  a  sort  of 
loving  obstinacy  in  their  old  abode,  long  after  they 
have  received  formal  notice  to  quit.  Their  chamber  is 
never,  to  the  end  of  time,  quite  swept  and  garnished. 
The  mind  is  never  altogether-as  if  they  had  not  been 
there.  When  a  “  yes  ”  or  “  no  ”  answer  is  demanded 
to  a  proposition  for  and  against  which  argument  and 
evidence  seem  equally  balanced,  the  decision  is  sure  to 
be  different  in  minds,  one  of  which  comes  new  to  the 
question  while  the  other  has  held  a  preconceived  opin¬ 
ion,  even  though  on  grounds  which  he  now  recognizes 


PREFACE. 


V 


as  erroneous  or  insufficient.  It  was  my  lot  to  inherit 
from  Puritan  forefathers  the  strongest  impressions  as  to 
the  great  doctrines  of  Religion  at  a  time  when  the 
mind  is  most  plastic  and  most  tenacious  of  such  im¬ 
pressions,  — 

“  Wax  to  receive,  and  marble  to  retain.” 

And  though  I  recognize  as  fully  as  any  man  of  science 
the  hollowness  of  most  of  the  foundations  on  which 
those  impressions  were  based,  and  the  entire  invalidity 
of  the  tenure  on  which  I  then  held  them,  yet  I  by  no 
means  feel  compelled  to  throw  up  the  possession  mere¬ 
ly  because  the  old  title-deeds  were  full  of  flaws.  The 
existence  of  a  wise  and  beneficent  Creator  and  of  a 
renewed  life  hereafter  are  still  to  me  beliefs  —  especially 
the  first  —  very  nearly  reaching  the  solidity  of  absolute 
convictions.  The  one  is  almost  a  Certainty,  the  other 
a  solemn  Hope.  And  it  does  not  seem  to  me  unphilo- 
sophic  to  allow  my  contemplation  of  Life  or  my  specu¬ 
lations  on  the  problems  it  presents  to  run  in  the 
grooves  worn  in  the  mind  by  its  antecedent  history,  so 
long  as  no  dogmatism  is  allowed,  and  no  disprovable 
datum  is  suffered  for  a  moment  to  intrude. 

The  question  —  when  stated  with  the  perfect  unre¬ 
serve  which  alone  befits  it  —  lies  in  small  compass. 
Of  actual  knowledge  we  have  simply  nothing.  Those 
who  believe  in  a  Creative  Spirit  and  Ruler  of  the  Uni¬ 
verse  are  forced  to  admit  that  they  can  adduce  no 
proofs  or  arguments  cogent  enough  to  compel  convic¬ 
tion  from  sincere  minds  constituted,  in  another  mould. 


Y1 


PREFACE. 


There  are  facts,  indications,  corollaries,  which  seem  to 
suggest  the  great  inference  almost  irresistibly  to  onr 
minds.  There  are  other  facts,  indications,  corollaries, 
which  to  other  minds  seem  as  irresistibly  to  negative 
that  inference.  Data,  admitted  by  both,  appear  of  very 
different  weight  to  each.  The  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  either  conclusion  are  confessedly  stupendous.  The 
difficulty  of  conceiving  the  eternal  pre-existence  of  a 
Personal  Creator  I  perceive  to  be  immense;  the  diffi¬ 
culty  of  conceiving  the  origin  and  evolution  of  the  ac¬ 
tual  Universe  independently  of  such  Personal  Creator  I 
should  characterize  as  insuperable.  The  Positivist  ■ — 
the  devotee  of  pure  Science  —  would  simply  reverse  the 
adjectives.  We  can  neither  of  ns  turn  the  minor  into 
the  major  difficulty  for  the  other  without  altering  the 
constitution  of  his  intelligence.  He  does  not  say, 
“  There  is  no  Cod,”  he  merely  says,  “  I  see  no  phenom¬ 
ena  which  irresistibly  suggest  one ;  I  see  many  which 
negative  the  suggestion;  and  I  have  greater  difficulty 
in  conceiving  all  that  the  existence  of  such  a  Being 
would  involve  than  in  the  contrary  assumption.”  I  do 
not  say,  “I  know  there  is  a  God”;  I  only  say  I  ob¬ 
serve  and  infer  much  that  forces  that  conviction  in 
upon  me ;  but  I  recognize  that  these  observations  and 
inferences  would  not  entitle  me  to  demand  the  same 
conviction  from  him.  In  fine,  neither  doctrine  can  be 

proved  or  disproved;  the  votaries  of  neither  are  en¬ 

titled  to  insist  upon  imposing  their  conviction  upon 
others,  on  the  plea  of  its  demonstrability.  I  am  en¬ 
titled,  however,  to  retain  mine  as,  to  me,  the  believ- 


PREFACE. 


Vll 


able  one.  Lawyers  tell  us  of  a  title  tliat  is  unsalable, 
but  indefeasible.  Scientific  men  speak  of  “  Provisional 
Theories,”  “  good  working  hypotheses,”  and  the  like,  — 
the  goodness  depending  upon  their  value  in  explaining 
and  elucidating  phenomena,  not  in  their  capability  of 
being  demonstrated.  There  is  some  analogy  in  the 
case  we  are  considering. 

Again,  visible  and  ascertainable  phenomena  give  no 
countenance  to  the  theory  of  a  future  or  spiritual  life. 
It  is  a  matter  of  intuitive  conviction,  or  of  deduction 
from  received  or  assumed  doctrines,  not  of  logical  infer¬ 
ence  from  established  data.*  I  cannot  demand  assent  to 

*  I  have  discussed  this  question  fully  in  the  last  chapter  of  “  The 
Creed  of  Christendom.”  There  is,  however,  one  indication  of  im¬ 
mortality  which  was  not  there  dwelt  upon,  hut  which  ought  not 
to  be  left  out  of  consideration,  though,  of  course,  its  value  will 
be  very  differently  estimated  by  different  minds.  I  refer  to  that 
spontaneous ,  irresistible,  and  perhaps  nearly  universal  feeling  we  all 
experience  on  watching,  just  after  death,  the  body  of  some  one  we 
have  intimately  known  ;  the  conviction,  I  mean  (a  sense,  a  con¬ 
sciousness,  an  expression  which  you  have  to  fight  against  if  you  wish 
to  disbelieve  or  shake  it  off),  that  the  form  lying  there  is  somehow 
not  the  Ego  you  have  loved.  It  does  not  produce  the  effect  of 
that  person’s  personality.  You  miss  the  Ego,  though  you  have 
the  frame.  The  visible  Presence  only  makes  more  vivid  the  sense 
of  actual  Absence.  Every  feature,  every  substance,  every  phenom¬ 
enon,  is  there,  —  and  is  unchanged.  You  have  seen  the  ej^es  as 
firmly  closed,  the  limbs  as  motionless,  the  breath  almost  as  im¬ 
perceptible,  the  face  as  fixed  and  expressionless,  before,  in  sleep 
or  in  trance,  without  the  same  peculiar  sensation.  The  impres¬ 
sion  made  is  indefinable,  and  is  not  the  result  of  any  conscious 
process  of  thought  :  —  that  that  body,  quite  unchanged  to  the  eye, 


Vlll 


PREFACE. 


it,  with  any  justice  or  on  any  plea  of  cogent  argument, 
from  a  reasoner  who  is  destitute  of  my  intuitive  convic¬ 
tion,  or  who  deems  my  deductions  erroneous,  or  demurs 
to  the  doctrines  from  which  they  flow.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  since  I  can  specify  undeniable  indications  which 
point  in  that  direction,  and  difficulties  which  to  all  ap¬ 
pearance  that  hypothesis  only  can  elucidate,  and  since 
he  can  in  no  way  demonstrate  its  untenability  or  its 
contrariety  with  known  truths,  I  am  entitled  to  hold  it 
as  to  me,  though  not  to  all,  the  most  credible  belief. 

These  will  seem  to  enthusiastic  believers  disappoint¬ 
ing  and  timid  positions  to  take  up  on  such  momentous 
questions ;  but  the  most  advanced  positions  are  not  al¬ 
ways  the  most  tenable,  and  the  humblest  are  often  the 
strongest.  The  safe  position  for  a  candid  reasoner,  and 
the  only  true  one,  is  not  that  which  is  most  menacing 
to  his  antagonist,  but  one  from  which  the  holder  can¬ 
not  be  dislodged. 

I  have  a  word  or  two  further  to  say  in  reference  to 
each  of  these  main  doctrines. 

Those  who  cling  most  lovingly  to  faith  in  a  future 
life,  and  would  avoid  the  shocks  which  close  thought 

IS  not,  and  never  was,  your  friend,  —  the  Ego  you  were  conversant 
with  ;  that  his  or  her  individuality  was  not  the  garment  before 
you  plus  a  galvanic  current  ;  that,  in  fact,  the  Ego  you  knew 
once  and  seek  still  was  not  that,  —  is  not  there.  And  if  not  there, 
it  must  be  elsewhere  or  nowhere ;  and  “  nowhere  ”  I  believe  modern 
science  will  not  suffer  us  to  predicate  of  either  force  or  substance 
that  once  has  been. 


PREFACE. 


IX 


always  causes  to  it,  will  do  well  to  guard  against  every 
temptation  to  define  or  particularize  its  nature,  mode,  or 
conditions,  to  realize  its  details  or  processes,  to  form  a 
distinct  or  jDlausible  theory  regarding  it,  —  especially  a 
local,  physical,  or  biological  one.  Let  it  rest  in  the 
vague,  if  you  would  have  it  rest  unshaken.  Lor,  while 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  our  imagination  is  utterly 
incapable  of  picturing  or  conceiving,  or  even  conjectur¬ 
ing  or  approaching,  the  actual  truth  about  the  unseen 
world,  it  is  certain  that  our  reason  will  find  no  diffi¬ 
culty  at  all  in  demolishing  or  discrediting  every  con¬ 
crete  and  systematic  conception  we  might  form.  The 
Great  Idea  —  fascinating  and  maintainable  so  long  as  it 
is  suffered  to  remain  nebulous  and  un-outlined  —  con¬ 
geals  and  carnalizes,  the  moment  we  endeavor  to  em¬ 
body  it,  into  something  which  is  vulnerable  at  every 
point,  and  which  we  are  forced  to  admit  is,  on  one  ground 
or  another,  unsustainable. 

We  all  recognize  instinctively  that  a  sense  of  iden¬ 
tity,  a  conscious  continuity  of  the  Ego,  is  an  essential 
element  of  the  doctrine.  A  life  beyond  the  grave,  in 
other  worlds  and  under  other  conditions  of  corporeal  or 
spiritual  existence,  but  devoid  of  this  main  feature,  would 
not,  it  is  evident,  answer  the  purposes  of  the  doctrine, 
nor  fulfil  those  yearnings  of  the  heart  and  soul  which 
many  writers  hold  to  be  its  most  convincing  indication. 
Apart  from  this  consciousness  of  personal  identity,  a 
future  life  would  be  simply  a  new  creation,  —  the  be¬ 
ings  who  came  into  existence  would  be  other  beings,  not 

ourselves  awakened  and  renewed.  The  curious,  but 

1  * 


X 


PREFACE. 


not  unattractive,  Pythagorean  theory  of  transmigration, 
reaching,  as  it  did,  both  to  the  future  and  the  past, 
failed  altogether  in  this  essential.  It  is  probable  that 
the  determination  to  hold  fast  by  this  essential  —  a  de¬ 
termination  often  half  unconscious  and  instinctive  — 
fostered,  if  it  did  not  originate,  the  astonishing  doctrine 
of  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  which  has  so  strangely 
and  thoughtlessly  (like  many  minor  dogmas)  found  its 
way  into  the  popular  creed.  The  primitive  parents  or 
congealers  of  that  creed,  whoever  they  may  have  been, 
—  innocent  of  all  science  and  oddly  muddled  in  their 
metaphysics,  hut  resolute  in  their  conviction  that  the 
same  persons  who  died  here  should  be,  in  very  deed, 
the  same  who  should  rise  hereafter,  —  systematized  their 
anticipations  into  the  notion  that  the  grave  should  give 
up  its  actual  inmates  for  their  ordained  transformation 
and  their  allotted  fate.  The  current  notion  of  the  ap¬ 
proaching  end  of  the  world  no  doubt  helped  to  blind 
them  to  the  vulnerability,  and  indeed  the  fatal  self- 
contradictions,  of  the  form  in  which  they  had  embodied 
their  faith.  Of  course,  if  they  had  taken  time  to  think, 
or  if  the  Fathers  of  the  Church  had  been  more  given 
to  thinking  in  the  rigid  meaning  of  the  word,  they  would 
have  discovered  that  this  special  form  rendered  that  faith 
absurd,  indefensible,  and  virtually  impossible.  They  did 
not  know,  or  they  never  considered,  that  the  buried  body 
soon  dissolves  into  its  elements,  which  in  the  course  of 
generations  and  centuries  pass  into  other  combinations, 
form  part  of  other  living  creatures,  feed  and  constitute 
countless  organizations  one  after  another ;  so  that  when 


PREFACE. 


XI 


the  graves  are  summoned  “  to  give  up  the  dead  that  are 
in  them/’  and  the  sea  “the  dead  that  are  in  it,”  they 
will  be  called  on  to  surrender  what  they  no  longer  possess, 
and  what  no  supernal .  power  can  give  back  to  them.  It 
never  occurred  to  those  creed-makers,  who  thus  took 
upon  themselves  to  carnalize  an  idea  into  a  fact,  that 
for  every  atom  that  once  went  to  make  up  the  body 
they  committed  to  the  earth,  there  would  be  scores  of 
claimants  before  the  Great  Day  of  account,  and  that  even 
Omnipotence  could  scarcely  be  expected  to  make  the 
same  component  part  be  in  two  or  ten  places  at  once. 
The  original  human  frames,  therefore,  could  not  be  had 
when,  as  supposed,  they  would  be  wanted. 

Neither,  apparently,  did  it  occur  to  them  that  these 
bodily  shells  and  frames  would  not  be  wanted.  “  Flesh 
and  blood  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.”  The  per¬ 
ishable  carcass  could  have  no  part  nor  lot  in  the  great 
scene  then  to  be  enacted.  The  perished  carcass  could  not 
be  needed  (like  the  bone  “  Luz  ”  so  queerly  invented  for 
the  purpose  by  the  later  J ews)  to  supply  materials  for  “  the 
spiritual  body,”  and  would  not  be  forthcoming  if  it  were. 

Moreover,  what  could  such  incongruous  elements  as 
nitrogen  and  phosphates,  and  sodium  and  other  metallic 
bases,  be  doing  in  immaterial  spheres,  and  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  God  ?  It  was  the  souls  of  men  that 
were  to  be  the  actors  in  that  mighty  Drama.  And,  again, 
where  were  those  souls  during  the  countless  ages  that 
elapse  between  their  exit  from  the  mortal  husk  and  their 
appearance  at  the  final  summons  ?  Speculation  has  been 
busy  with  this  problem  for  long  generations ;  has  been  al- 


XII 


PREFACE. 


ways  baffled ;  has  never  had  the  sense  to  perceive,  or  the 
candor  to  admit,  that  the  difficulty  was  entirely  one  of  its 
own  gratuitous  creation.  Still,  in  the  orthodox  creed,  or 
rather  in  popular  parlance  (for  real  belief  was  “  nowhere  ” 
in  the  matter),  the  soul  —  which  nobody  knew  how,  even 
in  fancy,  to  dispose  of  in  the  mean  while — was  to  be  called 
up  from  somewhere  to  reinhabit  pro  hac  vice  the  body, 
which  it  was  impossible  that  it  should  find,  and  of  which 
it  could  make  no  further  use  in  a  world  that,  in  philosoph¬ 
ical  conception,  is  spiritual,  and,  according  to  Scripture,  is 
prohibited  to  flesh  and  blood !  Endeavor  to  picture  the 
jumble  in  the  mind  of  that  early  Christian  who  framed 
the  conception  (and  had  influence  enough  to  make  after 
ages  repeat  it  with  a  submission  absolutely  servile)  of 
a  scene  where  decayed  and  dispersed  gaseous  elements 
and  atoms,  collected  from  ages  and  places  and  combina¬ 
tions,  were  put  together  once  more  for  one  momentary 
function,  and  thereafter  — 

A  more  thoughtful  age  will  marvel  —  as  the  thought¬ 
ful  of  this  age  marvel  now  —  that  the  fancy  of  the 
primeval  savage,  who  buries  his  horse  and  dog,  and 
spear  and  arrows,  in  the  same  grave  with  the  departed 
chief,  that  they  may  be  ready  for  him  in  the  unseen 
hunting-grounds  whither  he  is  gone,  should  have  been 
so  nearly  reproduced  in  the  creed  of  the  most  cultivated 
nation  in  the  most  civilized  age  that  human  progress  has 
yet  reached. 

Other  illustrations  might  be  given ;  one  or  two  may 
be  just  indicated  here.  If,  as  Professor  G-rote  suggests, 


PREFACE. 


X1U 


sympathy  with  all  other  beings  in  the  next  world  will 
be  indiscriminate  and  perfect,  and  “  undisguisedness  ” 
therefore  inevitable  and  absolute,  it  is  difficult  to  see 
how  separate  entity,  still  more  how  distinct  identity,  is 
to  be  secured. 

“  Surely,”  as  the  Spectator  argued,  “  if  sympathy  with 
all  is  perfect,  one  of  the  most  effective  links  of  conti¬ 
nuity,  the  limitation  of  sympathy,  will  disappear,  and  the 
mind  understanding  all,  and  sympathizing  with  all  equal¬ 
ly,  all  the  affections,  as  we  call  them,  would  cease,  and 
all  the  relations  of  humanity  be  meaningless.  The  an¬ 
cient  and  beautiful  thought  which  has  cheered  so  many 
bereaved  ones,  that  separation  is  only  for  a  time,  would 
be  without  object ;  for  though  we  should  meet  again,  it 
would  be  in  relations  to  which  the  former  relations  would 
have  no  similarity.  The  love  between  parent  and  child, 
for  example,  so  far  as  it  is  not  the  result  of  circumstances 
and  physical  similarity  of  constitution,  —  all  which  cir¬ 
cumstances  and  similarity  must  cease  at  death,  —  is  the 
*  *> 

product  of  superior  sympathy,  which  sympathy  would  be 
merged,  lost  in  the  universal  sympathy  of  which  Profes¬ 
sor  Grote  has  spoken.  It  may  be,  of  course,  that  the 
earthly  affections  are  earthly,  and  end  with  earth;  but 
there  is  no  proof  of  that,  and  no  reason  for  a  suggestion 
which,  besides  being  a  melancholy  one,  is  an  additional 
difficulty  in  the  way  of  continuity.” 

Then,  again,  if  there  be  a  hell  to  which  any  whom  we 
love  are  doomed,  heaven  can  only  be  the  place  of  per¬ 
fect  happiness  we  picture  it,  on  condition  of  a  narrowing, 
a  worsening,  or  at  all  events  a  change,  in  our  affections 


XIV 


PREFACE. 


and  moral  nature,  so  vast  as  to  be  fatal,  to  genuine 
identity. 

Lastly,  it  would  seem  impossible  to  frame  any  scheme 
of  a  future  life,  at  once  equitable  and  rational,  which 
should  include  all  human  beings  and  exclude  all  the 
rest  of  the  animal  creation.  Those  among  us  who  are 
most  really  intimate  with  dogs,  horses,  elephants,  and 
other  elite  of  the  fauna  of  the  world,  know  that  there 
are  many  animals  far  more  richly  endowed  witli  those 
intellectual  and  moral  qualities  which  are  worth  pre¬ 
serving  and  which  imply  capacity  of  cultivation,  than 
many  men,  —  higher,  richer,  and,  above  all,  more  unself¬ 
ish  and  devoted,  and  therefore,  we  may  almost  say,  more 
Christian  natures.  I  have  seen,  in  the  same  day,  brutes 
on  the  summit  and  men  at  the  foot  of  the  Great  St. 
Bernard,  with  regard  to  whom  no  one  would  hesitate 
to  assign  to  the  quadruped  the  superiority  in  all  that 
we  desire  should  live.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  where 
draw  the  line,  since  admittedly  the  highest  animals. toper 
downwards,  by  wholly  inappreciable  gradations,  to  the 
lowest  organisms  of  simply  vegetable  life  ? 

Does  the  following  suggestion  by  an  anonymous  writer 
offer  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty  ?  —  “  I  apprehend,  that  if 
man’s  immortality  be  accepted  as  proven,  a  strong  pre¬ 
sumption  may  be  thence  derived  in  favor  of  the  immor¬ 
tality  of  those  creatures  who  attain  that  moral  stage  whereat 
man  becomes  an  immortal  being.  What  that  stage  may  be 
we  do  not  presume  to  guess,  but  we  cannot  suppose  the 
tremendous  alternative  of  extinction  or  immortality  to 
be  decided  by  arrival  at  any  arbitrary  or  merely  physical 


PREFACE. 


XV 


turning-point  such  as  may  occur  at  various  epochs  either 
before  birth  or  at  the  moment  of  birth.  We  must  believe 
it  to  be  determined  by  entrance  on  some  moral  or  mental 
stage  such  as  may  be  represented  by  the  terms  Conscious¬ 
ness;  Self-Consciousness,  Intelligence,  Power  of  Love,  or 
the  like ;  by  the  development,  in  short,  of  the  mysterious 
Somewhat  above  the  purely  vegetative  or  animated  life 
for  which  such  life  is  the  scaffolding.  If,  then  (as  we  are 
wont  to  take  for  granted),  a  child  of  some  six  or  eigh¬ 
teen  months  old  be  certainly  an  immortal  being,  it  follows 
that  the  stage  of  development  which  involves  immortality 
must  be  an  early  one.  And  if  such  be  the  case,  that  stage 
is  unquestionably  attained  by  animals  often,  and  by  some 
men  never. 

“  I  beg  that  it  may  be  remarked  that  this  argument 
expressly  restricts  itself  to  the  case  of  the  higher  animals, 
and  thus  escapes  the  objection  which  has  always  been 
raised  to  the  hypothesis  of  the  immortality  of  the  hum¬ 
bler  creatures,  namely,  that  if  we  proceed  a  step  below 
the  human  race  we  have  no  right  to  stop  short  of  the 
oyster.  I  merely  contend  that  where  any  animal  mani¬ 
festly  surpasses  an  average  human  infant  in  those  steps 
of  development  which  can  be  assumed  to  involve  existence 
after  death,  then  we  are  logically  and  religiously  justified 
in  expecting  that  the  Creator  of  both  child  and  brute  will 
show  no  favoritism  for  the  smooth  white  skin  over  the 
rough  hairy  coat.” 

Half  the  difficulties  which  lie  in  the  way  of  believing 
in  a  Personal  God  as  the  Euler  as  well  as  Creator  of  the 


XVI 


PREFACE. 


universe  are  of  our  own  making.  They  are  wholly  gratui¬ 
tous,  and  arise  out  of  the  inconsiderate  and  unwarranted 
use  of  a  single  word,  —  omnipotent.  Thoughtful  minds  in 
all  ages  have  experienced  the  most  painful  perplexities 
in  the  attempt  to  reconcile  certain  of  the  moral  and  phys¬ 
ical  phenomena  we  see  around  us  with  the  assumption  of 
a  Supreme  Being  at  once  All-wise,  All-good,  and  Almighty. 
The  mental  history  of  mankind  presents  few  sadder  spec¬ 
tacles  than  is  afforded  by  the  acrobatic  efforts,  the  convul¬ 
sive  contortions,  the  almost  incredible  feats  of  subtlety 
and  force,  performed  by  piety  and  intelligence  combined 
in  this  self-imposed  field  of  conflict,  —  this  torture-cham¬ 
ber  of  the  soul.  Thousands  have  there  made  shipwreck 
of  their  faith,  thousands  of  their  truthfulness  and  candor, 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  their  peace  of  mind.  When 
the  actual  facts  of  the  moral  and  the  natural  world  came 
to  be  fully  recognized  and  understood,  it  was  felt  to  be 
inconceivable  how  or  why  Infinite  Love  should  have  cre¬ 
ated  a  scene  of  teeming  life,  of  which  the  most  salient 
feature  is  universal  conflict  and  universal  slaughter,  — 
every  organic  being  ceaselessly  occupied  in  trampling 
down  or  devouring  its  neighbor,  and  dependent  for  its  own 
existence  upon  doing  this  successfully.  It  was  felt  to  be 
equally  incomprehensible  that  Infinite  Goodness  and  illim¬ 
itable  Power  should  have  created  a  world  so  rife  with  evil, 
—  into  which  evil  entered  so  easily,  and  ruled  with  so 
predominant  a  sway.  The  origin  and  meaning  of  evil, 
its  whence  and  its  why,  has  always  been  the  crux  of  the 
sincerest  and  profoundest  thinkers,  —  the  insoluble  prob¬ 
lem  of  humanity.  It  has  scattered  those  who  have  tried 


PREFACE. 


XVII 


to  master  it  as  widely  as  the  fabled  tower  of  Babel.  Some 

t » 

it  has  driven  into  atheism,  some  into  Manicheism,  some 
into  denials  of  the  most  obvious  facts  of  life  and  nature, 
some  into  betrayals  of  the  most  fundamental  principles 
of  morality,  some  into  elaborate  schemes  of  damnation 
and  redemption,  which  to  unperverted  minds  seem  almost 
blasphemous  in  their  audacity. 

That  problem  is  insoluble.  Nature  never  truly  set  us 
such  contradictions  to  reconcile.  The  conditions  of  the 
real  problem  have  been  incorrectly  stated.  What  stata¬ 
ble  reason,  what  quotable  warrant,  have  we  for  assuming 
that  the  Creator  was,  or  that  the  Supreme  Being  is,  “  Om¬ 
nipotent  ”  ?  The  word  originally  implied  no  accurate  logi¬ 
cal  conception  of  absolute  or  unlimited  power ;  but  was 
used  to  express  a  relative  rather  than  a  positive  idea.  It 
was  a  natural  and  a  fitting  epithet  to  use  towards,  or  of,  a 
Being  whose  power,  as  compared  with  that  of  man,  was 
simply  immeasurable  and  incalculable ,  and  might  therefore 
in  ordinary  parlance  be  called  “  Infinite.”  Those  who  first 
used  it  and  those  who  adopted  it  never  thought  of  defin¬ 
ing  the  word  ;  and,  never  straining  their  imagination  to 
dream  of  boundaries  or  limitations,  spoke  easily  of  the 
boundless  and  illimitable ;  while  the  incurable  vulgar  dis¬ 
position  of  uncivilized  minds,  to  flatter  the  object  of  their 
worship,  came  in  aid  of  the  expression,  till  by  degrees  the 
loose  language  of  an  age  which  defined  [precise)  nothing 
was  invested  with  the  rigijd  formalism  of  an  age  which 
sought  to  define  everything,  and  the  fine,  vague  descrip¬ 
tion  of  poetic  piety  became  the  hard  and  therefore  false 
dogma  of  the  Scholastic  creed.  That  omnipotence,  in  the 


B 


XV111 


PREFACE. 


precise,  absolute,  metaphysical  meaning  of  the  word,  should 
ever  have  been  accepted  as  an  indisputable  and  essential 
attribute  of  the  Deity,  is  one  of  the  most  curious  instances 
among  the  many  which  may  be  traced  of  the  fatal  facility 
with  which,  in  theological  fields,  one  age  blindly,  thought¬ 
lessly,  and  uninquiringly  adopts  the  notions  of  its  prede¬ 
cessor. 

Yet  do  divines  even  now,  when  they  give  themselves 
the  trouble  to  question  their  own  minds  on  the  subject, 
really  and  in  very  truth  attribute  absolute  omnipotence 
to  the  Supreme  Being  ?  Do  they  believe  that  He  can 
combine  inherent  contradictions  ?  That  He  can  cause 
two  and  two  to  make  five  ?  That  He  can  enable  a  human 
creature  to  be  in  two  places  at  the  same  instant  of  time  ? 
If  he  cannot  do  these  things  (and  no  one  will  assert  that 
He  can),  then  He  works  and  lives  under  limitations  and 
conditions  ;  and  we  require  no  further  concession  than  this 
to  deprive  the  problem  of  the  existence  of  evil  of  half  its 
gloom  and  difficulty,  and  though  not  to  solve  it,  at  least 
to  indicate  that  it  is  not  inherently  insoluble.  We  have 
only  to  conceive  the  Creator  immeasurably ,  incalculably 
wise,  beneficent,  and  mighty,  —  good  and  powerful  to  a 
degree  which,  in  reference  to  human  beings,  may  fairly 
be  called  infinite,  but  still  “  conditioned,”  —  hampered, 
it  may  be,  by  the  attributes,  qualities,  imperfections  of 
the  material  on  which  he  had  to  operate  ;  bound  possibly 
by  laws  or  properties  inherent  in  the  nature  of  that  mate¬ 
rial,  —  and  we  descend,  so  to  speak,  into  a  breathable  in¬ 
tellectual  atmosphere  at  once.  We  need  not  attempt  to 
conjecture  what  those  fettering  laws  or  attributes  may  be  ; 


PREFACE. 


XIX 


we  have  only  to  suppose  their  existence,  —  a  supposition 
jorima  facie  surely  more  probable  than  its  opposite, — and 
it  becomes  possible  at  once  to  believe  in  and  to  worship 
God,  without  doing  violence  to  our  moral  sense,  or  deny¬ 
ing  or  distorting  the  sorrowful  facts  that  surround  our 
daily  life. 


« 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

I. 

Realizable  Ideals . 23 

II. 

Malthus  Notwithstanding . 71 

III. 

Non-survival  of  the  Fittest . 109 

IV. 

Limits  and  Directions  of  Human  Development  .  .  153 

y. 

The  Significance  of  Life . 197 

VI. 

De  Profundis . 229 

VII. 

Elsewhere . 259 


Appendix 


303 


✓ 


) 


I 


I. 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


I  iHE  contrast  between  the  Ideal  and  the  Actual  of 


JL  Humanity  lies  as  a  heavy  weight  upon  all  tender 
and  reflective  minds.  Those  who  believe  this  contrast  to 
be  designed,  incurable,  and  eternal  are  driven  by  their 
dreary  creed  to  despair,  to  sensual  or  semi-sensual  ego¬ 
tism,  to  religion,  or  that  form  of  religion  which  is  very 
nearly  irreligion.  If  the  countless  evils  of  life  are 
irremediable,  or  capable  only  of  slight  and  casual  miti¬ 
gation  ;  if  the  swarming  multitudes  of  our  race  are 
destined  to  remain  almost  as  sinful,  as  ignorant,  as 
degraded,  and  as  wretched  as  at  present ;  if  the  im¬ 
provements  that  human  effort  can  effect  upon  their 
natures  and  their  lot  are  to  be  as  trifling  as  most 
believe  in  comparison  with  the  residue  of  misery  and 
wrong  that  must  remain,  as  well  as  with  the  Possible 
that  may  be  dreamed ;  —  then,  what  is  left  to  us  but  a 
selfishness  more  or  less  disguised  and  modified  accord¬ 
ing  to  our  several  characters  ?  The  Stoic  will  train 
himself  to  bear  what  he  can,  and  will  leave  the  scene 
when  he  can  bear  no  longer.  The  cultured  Epicurean 
will  strive  to  harden  himself  against  all  warmer,  keener, 


2 


26 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  wider  sympathies,  and  to  get  what  joy  and  smooth¬ 
ness  he  can  out  of  life  without  interfering  too  greatly 
with  the  welfare  of  those  around  him.  The  meaner 
and  coarser  Egotist  will  seek  pleasure  and  shun  pain, 
uncontrolled  even  by  that  consideration.  The  Philoso¬ 
pher  will  speculate,  in  ever-growing  perplexity  and  dark¬ 
ness,  on  the  insoluble  problem  of  existence,  and  on 
the  attributes  and  plans  of  the  Deity  who  could  have 
framed  so  strange  a  world,  till  all  faith  and  love  dies 
out  of  his  baffled  intellect ;  while  the  Eeligious  man 
—  religious  either  by  instinct  or  by  creed  —  will  go  on 
as  of  old,  will  transfer  his  hopes  and  projects  to  an  ideal 
scene  elsewhere,  where  he  can  paint  any  picture  his  fancy 
pleases  on  the  canvas,  and  seek  in  a  future  existence  the 
realization  of  those  dreams  of  universal  virtue  and  well¬ 
being  which  it  seems  forbidden  to  indulge  on  earth. 

But  this  creed  has  always  seemed  to  me  as  irrational 
as  it  is  sad  and  paralyzing,  and  at  least  as  impious  as  it 
is  unphilosophical.  It  could  never  have  been  received 
as  orthodox,  or  even  as  probable  or  natural,  if  Priests  had 
not  seen  fit  to  congeal  and  stereotype  into  articles  of 
faith  the  crude  conceptions  of  some  vigorous  minds  in 
early  times,  puzzling  over  the  problem  of  life  with  only 
a  few  of  its  clearly  ascertained  facts  and  conditions  before 
them.  Practically  it  is  a  creed  which  does  not  go  very 
deep  into  our  innermost  convictions  now.  Virtually  we 
give  it  the  lie  or  we  tacitly  ignore  it  every  hour  of  our 
lives.  Most  of  us  believe  a  vast  amelioration  in  the  con¬ 
dition  of  the  world  to  he  attainable,  both  in  moral  and 
material  things.  Many  of  us  systematically  strive  for 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


27 


this  amelioration.  The  efforts  of  Government,  of  Legisla¬ 
tion,  of  Philanthropy,  of  Science,  are  all  in  reality  directed 
to  this  end.  We  have  all  some  ideal  —  though  it  may  be 
poor,  near,  and  partial  —  towards  which  we  are  pressing, 
and  which  we  hope  more  or  less  perfectly  to  realize.  Per¬ 
haps  the  actual  difference  between  the  prevalent  specula¬ 
tive  views  on  this  subject  is,  that  some  of  us  are  so  much 
more  sanguine  than  others.  Some  hope  only  to  make  life 
tolerable  ;  others  trust  to  make  it  at  length  as  perfect  as  in 
its  Creator’s  original  scheme  they  believed  it  was  designed 
to  be  or  to  become.  Some  believe  only  that  a  consider¬ 
able  number  of  human  evils  may  be  materially  mitigated  ; 
others,  more  buoyant,  have  convinced  themselves  that, 
with  time,  patience,  and  intelligent  exertion,  every  evil 
not  inherent  in  or  essential  to  a  finite  existence  may  be 
eliminated,  and  the  yawning  gulf  between  the  Actual  and 
the  Ideal  at  last  bridged  over. 

This  faith  is  mine.  I  hold  it  with  a  conviction  which 
I  feel  foi;  scarcely  any  other  conclusion  of  the  reason.  It 

i 

appears  to  me  the  only  one  compatible  with  true  piety,  — 
I  mean  with  a  rational  conception  of  the  attributes  of  the 
Creator  ;  for  I  can  perceive  no  beauty  and  no  religion  in 
the  notion  that  God  placed  us  in  this  world  only  that  we 
might  be  forever  working  for  and  hankering  after  another. 
It  appears  to  me,  also,  —  in  spite  of  the  clouds  and  dark¬ 
ness  which  are  round  about  us,  —  the  only  one  which 
reflection  and  reason  will  sanction.  I  am  not  prepared  to 
give  up  this  life  as  “a  bad  job,”  and  to  look  for  reward, 
compensation,  virtue,  and  happiness  solely  to  another.  I 
distinctly  refuse  to  believe  in  inevitable  evils.  I  recognize 


28 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


in  the  rectification  of  existing  wrong  and  the  remedy  of 
prevailing  wretchedness  “  the  work  which  is  given  ns  to 
do.”  For  this  we  are  to  toil ;  and  not  to  toil  in  vain. 
After  this  we  are  to  aspire,  and  not  to  have  our  aspira¬ 
tions  forever  mocked  by  the  impossibility  of  their  final 
realization, 

* 

“  To  seek,  to  find,  to  strive,  and  not  to  yield.” 

Disease,  destitution,  endemic  misery,  certainly  —  sin 
and  suffering  of  nearly  every  sort,  probably  and  mainly  — 
lie  at  our  door,  at  the  door  of  the  aggregate  of  onr  race,  at 
that  of  onr  ancestors  or  at  our  own ;  and  I  hold  that  what 
man  has  caused  man  may  cure.  Accidents  and  death  will 
still  remain  with  the  natural  but  unexaggerated  conse¬ 
quences  they  entail.  But  how  small  a  residuum  should 
we  have  to  trace  to  unavoidable  accidents,  if  we  were  only 
as  wise  and  strong  as  we  might  ideally  become,  and  how 
little  of  this  residuum  could  fitly  be  called  “  evil,”  we  can 
as  yet  only  guess.  Whether  Death  be  indeed  an  “  evil  ” 
we  need  not  discuss,  for  Death  is  the  very  condition  of  our 
existence  here  ;  yet,  if  it  only  took  its  proper  position  as 
one  among  the  many  occurrences  of  life,  and  only  came 
(as  in  the  ideal  state  I  contemplate  it  only  would  come) 
when  it  was  due,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  we  should  be 
amazed  to  find  how  rarely  it  was  repined  at  or  unwel¬ 
comed,  either  by  the  recipients  or  the  spectators  of  the 
summons. 

The  true  way  to  realize  to  our  own  minds  the  curability 
of  all  the  ills  which  humanity,  individually  and  collec¬ 
tively,  groans  under,  is  to  take  them  one  by  one,  or  a  few 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


29 


of  them  as  samples,  in  a  colloquial  fashion,  and  ask  our¬ 
selves  if  there  be  any  one  which  must  or  need  have  been, 
which  in  its  inception  might  not  have  been  avoided,  which, 
in  fact,  is  not  distinctly  and  indisputably  traceable  to  our 
contravention  (through  ignorance  or  wilfulness)  of  the 
laws  of  Nature  which  lie  plain  (or  discoverable)  before 
us ;  the  physical  laws  on  which  health  depends,  the  moral 
laws  on  which  happiness  depends,  and  the  social  and  eco¬ 
nomic  laws  on  which  plenty  and  comfort  depend.  A  very 
superficial  survey  will  bring  us  to  the  conclusion,  which 
the  most  profound  investigation  will  only  serve  to  deepen 
into  settled  conviction,  that  the  world  is  so  constituted 
that  if  we  were  consistently  intelligent  and  morally  right 
we  should  be  socially  and  physically  happy.  We  have, 
unquestionably,  a  terrible  inheritance  of  ancestral  errors 
to  redeem,  obstacles  to  remove,  mischiefs  to  undo ;  but 
the  recuperative  powers  of  nature  are  astonishing  and 
nearly  inexhaustible,  and  we  only  require  steadily  to  go 
right  at  once  and  henceforth,  in  order  erelong  to  cancel 
the  consequences  of  having  gone  wrong  for  such  countless 
generations. 

The  evils  of  our  actual  social  condition  may  be  classed 
under  three  heads  :  pain  and  disease,  destitution,  and  vice 
or  crime.  We  believe  that  all  three  may  be,  if  not  alto¬ 
gether  eliminated,  yet  reduced  to  a  minimum  that  would 
be  easily  dealt  with  and  easily  borne ;  and  those  will  be 
most  inclined  to  agree  with  us  who  reflect,  first,  how  curi¬ 
ously  the  three  causes  of  our  sufferings  mutually  aid  and 
aggravate  each  other ;  and  secondly,  with  what  strange, 
ingenious,  obstinate  perversity  we  have  long  labored  — 


30 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


individually  and  collectively,  by  law  and  habit,  byt  action 
and  by  abstinence  —  to  foster  and  propagate  them  all. 

I.  Consider  for  a  moment  how  vast  an  amount  of  our 
personal  misery,  to  say  nothing  of  actual  sin  and  of  the 
wretchedness  which  our  consequent  ill-temper  brings  on 
others,  arises  from  Dyspepsia.  Perhaps  this  malady  is 
answerable,  directly  or  indirectly,  for  more  unhappiness, 
and  does  more  to  lower  the  general  tone  and  average  of 
human  enjoyment,  than  any  other.  We  all  of  us  know 
something  of  it,  many  of  us  know  it  well ;  we  can  esti¬ 
mate  in  some  measure  how  much  the  cheerfulness  and 
brightness  of  our  daily  life  is  impaired  by  its  pernicious 
prevalence,  how  it  saps  good  spirits,  how  it  sours  good 
temper.  Well!  how  obvious  are  its  causes;  in  most  in¬ 
stances  how  possible  its  cure  ?  How  many  of  us  toil  half 
our  life  to  earn  it,  begin  early  in  its  cultivation,  dig  for  it 
as  for  hid  treasures  ?  We  generally  lay  the  foundation 
in  childhood,  or  in  our  first  youth,  by  reckless  and  igno¬ 
rant  self-indulgence,  ■ —  the  fault  of  parents  and  teachers, 
you  will  say,  and  what  they  could  have  checked  in  time 
had  they  known  and  valued  the  laws  of  physiology.  True, 
but  we  ourselves  are,  or  have  been,  or  will  be,  those  very 
parents  and  teachers.  Then,  do  we  not  ourselves  commit 
much  the  same  follies  as  our  children  ?  When  we  eat,  as 
we  habitually  do,  more  than  is  good  for  us  ;  when  wTe  eat, 
as  most  of  us  do,  what  we  know  will  disagree  with  us  ; 
•when  the  pleasures  of  the  palate  tempt  us  to  do  more 
than  satisfy  our  hunger  or  recruit  our  strength  ;  when  we 
drink  alcohol,  not  because  we  need  it,  but  because  we  like 
it ;  when  we  take  a  second  glass,  not  because  a  second 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


31 


was  required,  but  because  the  first  was  very  good  ;  when 
smoking  becomes  a  regular  habit,  instead  of  an  occasional 
indulgence  ;  in  all  these  cases  we  are  sowing  seeds  for  an 
inevitable  harvest,  we  are  diligently  earning  our  wages 
and  incurring  a  recorded  obligation.  If  only  all  wages 
were  as  well  earned,  and  all  debts  as  certain  to  be  paid  ! 
When  we  sit  lazily  in  our  arm-chair  under  circumstances 
which  indicate  that  we  ought  to  be  in  active  exercise ; 
when  we  sit  in  close  rooms  and  in  a  vitiated  atmosphere, 
instead  of  breathing  the  clear  air  of  heaven ;  when  we  go 
on  toiling  and  thinking  long  after  our  sensations  warn  us 
that  we  have  expended  the  income  and  are  drawing  on  the 
capital  of  our  cerebral  strength ;  whenever,  in  a  word,  we 
neglect  the  plainest  physiological  laws  (which  it  is  diffi¬ 
cult  not  to  read  whenever  our  attention  is  drawn  to  them), 
then  we  are  laying  the  foundation  of  that  functional 
disorder  of  the  digestive  organs  which  entails  so  certain 
and  so  sad  a  penalty.  I  am  sceptical  about  stomachic 
ailments  which  a  man  has  done  nothing  to  deserve.  I 
scarcely  believe  in  any  which  either  he  or  his  progenitors 
have  not  worked  hard  to  generate.  I  believe,  moreover, 
that  those  are  few  which,  however  induced  originally,  may 
not  be  cured  or  kept  in  bounds,  even  after  mature  age  is 
reached,  by  sedulous  care  scientifically  directed.  We  are 
most  of  us  familiar  with  the  case  of  Cornaro,  who,  awaken¬ 
ing  at  forty  years  of  age  to  the  consciousness  of  a  shattered 
constitution,  yet  contrived,  by  sagacious  observation  and 
incessant  vigilance,  to  recover  the  tone  of  an  outraged  and 
enfeebled  stomach,  and  lived  in  laughing  comfort  to  a 
green  old  age. 


32 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Again  :  —  few  maladies  are  more  distressing,  nor,  we 
fear,  more  upon  the  increase,  than  diseases  of  the  heart  A 
Nearly  all  these,  it  is  now  understood,  where  no  heredi¬ 
tary  predisposition  is  responsible,  may  be  traced,  either  to 
the  high  pressure  and  rapid  pace  of  life  generally  and  in 
almost  all  professions,  or  to  violent  and  excessive  muscular 
exertion  in  youth,  such  as  physiological  knowledge  would, 
if  consulted,  at  once  condemn.  Where  such  disorders  are 
inherited,  the  tendency  may  usually  be  traced  to  similar 
neglect  of  natural  laws  by  parents  or  ancestors.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  three  terrible  and  allied  maladies 
which  so  extensively  corrupt  and  undermine  the  health 

*  “  The  tendency  of  modern  investigation  into  the  influence  of 
civilization  on  longevity  seems  to  show  a  twofold  series  of  agencies 
at  work.  On  the  one  hand,  sanitary  improvements  and  the  lessened 
mortality  from  epidemics  undoubtedly  tend  to  diminish  the  average 
death-rates ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  practically  much  less 
improvement  in  total  death-rates  than  might  be  expected  if  these 
ameliorating  causes  'were  not  counterbalanced  by  the  increasing 
fatality  of  other  classes  of  disease,  such  as  diseases  of  the  brain  and 
heart.  It  is  important  to  recognize  the  precise  facts.  The  excess 
may,  probably,  to  some  extent,  be  regarded  as  an  unavoidable  result 
of  the  great  mental  strain  and  hurried  excitement  of  these  times,  in 
which  steam  and  electricity  mark  time  for  us,  in  an  overcrowded 
community,  where  competition  is  carried  to  the  highest  point,  and 
where  the  struggle  for  existence,  not  to  say  for  intellectual  and 
other  distinction,  is  carried  on  with  sleepless  and  exhausting  energy. 
But  an  evil  recognized  is  sometimes  half  cured ;  and  the  intellectual 
classes,  looking  at  figures  such  as  those  Dr.  Quinn  has  displayed  at 
his  interesting  Lumleian  Lectures,  at  the  College  of  Physicians,  on 
Diseases  of  the  Walls  of  the  Heart,  may  well  consider  the  propriety 
of  attending  to  the  hygiene  of  their  lives,  as  well  as  of  their  houses ; 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


33 


of  the  English  nation,  make  so  many  lives  miserable,  and 
so  many  deaths  premature ;  viz.,  consumption,  scrofula, 
and  gout.  The  predisposition  to  these  is  often,  usually 
perhaps,  an  inheritance  from  progenitors  who  have  ig¬ 
nored  or  set  at  naught  the  most  obvious  conditions  of 
hygiene,  even  more  recklessly  than  we  do ;  but  no  one  who 
knows  how  latent  tendencies  are  brought  out,  and  the 
seeds  of  disease  fostered  and  matured  by  bad  air,  un¬ 
wholesome  dwellings,  and  personal  excess,  will  doubt  that 
“  this  man  has  sinned  ”  as  well  as  his  parents  for  this 
thing  to  have  come  upon  him.  The  inherited  constitu¬ 
tion  is  no  doubt  a  faulty  one,  but  probably  the  most  ex¬ 
perienced  physicians  will  estimate  most  highly  how  much 

and  to  remember  that,  to  enjoy  and  benefit  by  even  pure  air,  soil, 
and  water,  they  must  avoid  disabling  heart  and  brain  by  the  inces¬ 
sant  labors  which  too  often  make  useful  lives  joyless,  and  embitter 
the  harvesting  of  the  crop  which  has  been  too  diligently  sown. 
These  warning  figures  tell  that,  during  the  last  twenty  years,  the 
total  of  deaths  of  males  at  all  ages  from  heart  disease  has  increased 
in  number  from  5,746  in  1851  to  12,428  in  1870.  The  percentage 
of  deaths  from  heart  disease  for  1,000  of  population  living  was  .755 
between  the  years  1851  and  1855  ;  it  has  risen  to  1.085  from  1866 
to  1870.  This  increase,  it  must  be  observed  too,  has  taken  place 
wholly  in  connection  with  the  working  years  of  active  social  life. 
There  is  no  change  in  the  percentage  of  deaths  from  this  cause  in 
males  under  25  years  of  age.  Between  20  and  45  years  of  age  it  has 
risen  from  .553  to  .709,  and  that  almost  exclusively  in  males,  for 
there  is  almost  no  increase  in  the  percentage  of  females  dying  from 
heart  disease  during  the  25  years  of  life  from  21  to  45.  These 
figures  convey  their  own  lesson,  and  warn  us  to  take  a  little  more 
care  not  to  kill  ourselves  for  the  sake  of  living.”  —  British  Medical 
J ournal. 


2* 


c 


34 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


may  be  clone  to  correct  and  counteract  the  fault  by  care¬ 
ful  avoidance  of  all  unsanitary  conditions,  by  fresh  air, 
suitable  nourishment,  and  habitual  temperance.  Three 
generations  of  wholesome  life  might  suffice  to  eliminate 
the  ancestral  poison,  for  the  vis  medicatrix  naturae  has 
wonderful  efficacy  when  allowed  free  play ;  and  perhaps 
the  time  may  come  when  the  worst  cases  shall  deem  it  a 
plain  duty  to  curse  no  future  generations  with  the  clctm- 
nosa  hereditas  which  has  caused  such  bitter  wretchedness 
to  themselves. 

It  is  only  now  that  we  are  beginning  to  realize  how  vast 
a  proportion  both  of  our  illnesses  and  deaths  are  due  to 
purely  and  easily  preventable  causes,  and  the  knowledge 
has  not  yet  fairly  stirred  us  into  action.  It  is  calculated 

—  and  the  estimate  is  probably  below  the  truth  —  that 
in  this  country  100,000  deaths  annually  can  be  traced  to 
zymotic  diseases  and  epidemics,  generated  or  propagated 
distinctly  by  foul  air,  defective  water,  and  pernicious  food, 

—  to  filth,  noxious  gases,  and  the  like,  —  all  of  which 
originators  and  agencies  might  be  extinguished  or  neu- 
tralized  by  prompt  and  energetic  obedience  to  well- 
knoAvn  sanitary  laws.  It  is  needless  to  go  into  any  de¬ 
tails  on  so  threadbare  a  topic.  It  is  certain,  and  will  not 
be  denied,  that,  for  example,  to  take  the  metropolis  alone, 
if  unwholesome  overcrowding  were  prevented  by  an  ade¬ 
quate  supply  of  dwellings  for  the  poor ;  and  if  all  those 
dwellings  were  well  drained  and  ventilated,  and  furnished 
with  an  ample  supply  of  good  water,  not  only  might  pes¬ 
tilences  and  epidemics  be  almost  certainly  exterminated, 
but  a  number  of  other  evils,  now  acting  and  reacting  on 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


35 


each  other,  would  he  eliminated  or  enormously  mitigated. 
First  of  all,  the  craving  for  strong  drink,  so  constantly 
created  and  stimulated  almost  into  a  passion  by  breathing 
fetid  air,  would  be  removed,  and  thus  the  intemperance 
arising  from  that  cause  would  be  cured,  and  the  destitu¬ 
tion,  brutality,  crime,  and  sickness  thence  arising  would 
be  subtracted  from  the  sum  of  human  suffering.  Next, 
that  further  amount  of  drinking  which  is  incidental  to 
the  habit  among  workingmen  of  frequenting  public- 
houses  because  their  own  houses  offer  them  no  com¬ 
fortable,  warm,  cheerful  room  to  sit  in,  would  be  mini¬ 
mized  :  and  few  know  for  how  much  drunkenness  this 
cause  is  indirectly  and  in  its  origin  answerable.  Then, 
again,  with  the  universal  establishment  of  wholesome 
and  decent  dwellings  for  the  poor,  we  should  escape, 
not  only  the  20,000  or  30,000  premature  deaths  caused 
by  the  want  of  such,  and  the  sapped  health  and  strength 
of  thousands  more,  but  the  destitution,  misery,  and  in¬ 
sufficient  nourishment  of  countless  families  where  pre- 
ventible  maladies  have  swept  away  the  bread-winner, 
and,  in  consequence  and  in  addition,  at  least  one  half 
the  pauperism  which  is  eating  like  a  gangrene  into  the 
moral  and  material  well-being  of  the  country.  For — and 
this  is  the  encouraging  feature  of  this  matter  —  amend¬ 
ment  and  reform  in  one  point  brings  amendment  and 
progress  in  all  others.  You  cannot  improve  dwellings 
without,  pro  tanto,  lessening  intemperance  and  vice ;  you 
cannot  diminish  drunkenness  without  diminishing  pau¬ 
perism  and  brutality,  disease  and  death ;  you  cannot  give 
people  comfortable  houses,  without  sobriety,  health,  edu- 


36 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


cation,  virtually  if  not  actually  increased  wages,  and 
raised  moral  feeling,  inevitably  and  by  a  thousand  in¬ 
direct  channels,  advancing  also,  and  aiding  the  good 
work  in  inodes  as  yet  undreamed  of.  Every  valuable 
influence  put  in  operation  is  a  potent  ally  of  every 
other.  If  a  man’s  or  a  nation’s  face  is  once  set  in  the 
right  direction  and  progress  once  commenced,  unseen 
influences  close  in  on  all  sides,  half  insensibly,  to  aid 
the  onward  march. 

Look  for  a  moment,  very  briefly,  at  the  perverse  course 
we  have  hitherto  pursued  ;  how  we  have  fostered  all  our 
social  maladies  as  it  were  with  a  sort  of  co-operative  zeal; 
how  we  have  taken  every  sore  which  plagues  and  cor¬ 
rodes  our  body  politic,  and  not  merely  “  let  it  alone  this 
year  and  that  year  also,”  but  “  dug  about  and  dunged  it,” 
as  if  we  were  determined  it  should  bear  ample  fruit ; 
and  this  not  from  viciousness,  but  sometimes  from  igno¬ 
rance,  sometimes  from  good  feeling  gone  astray,  some¬ 
times  from  selfishness  and  careless  neglect,  usually  from 
sheer  stupidity.  For  generations  we  have  seen  that  most 
ominous  of  all  symptoms,  that  most  dangerous  if  most 
natural  of  all  tendencies  in  a  productive  and  advancing 
country,  the  concentration  of  the  population  into  great 
towns,  without  —  we  do  not  say  any  attempt  to  control 
or  counteract  it,  but  —  any  effort,  or  any  adequate  effort, 
to  provide  for  it,  or  forestall  its  consequences.  We  have 
scarcely  dreamed  of  the  necessity  for  expanding  our 
social  garments  as  our  social  body  has  grown  beneath 
tliejXL.  The  same  municipal  government  —  or  rather  the 
same  municipal  makeshifts  and  neglect  —  which  sufficed 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


37 


for  the  village  or  the  country  town,  we  have  fancied 
would  answer  for  the  vast  manufacturing  hive.  The 
same  drainage  system,  the  same  sort  of  wrater  >  supply, 
the  same  haphazard  mode  of  multiplying  buildings 
which  did  for  a  town  of  5,000  inhabitants,  have  been 
applied  to  the  same  town  grown  to  50,000.  Look  at 
London,  which  needed  more  care,  skill,  science,  admin¬ 
istrative  wisdom  than  any  other  city,  and  as  the  seat 
of  wealth,  rank,  and  the  central  government  might  have 
been  expected  to  receive  more,  and  consider  its  contriv¬ 
ances  for  obtaining  gas,  water,  drainage;  look  at  its  rook¬ 
eries  and  its  alleys  ;  its  squalid  dens  ;  its  mingled  luxury 
and  destitution ;  its  no  government ;  its  provision  for  fire, 
and  against  fire. 

Look  at  pauperism,  how  we  have  fed  and  fostered  it ; 
how  we  shrank  from  and  spoiled  and  neutralized  the 
one  really  scientific  piece  of  legislation  which  England 
can  boast  of,  the  New  Poor  Law  as  first  proposed ;  how 
we  have  kept  up  and  added  to  those  old  mediaevally  con¬ 
ceived  charities  which  might  have  been  innoxious  under 
altogether  different  conditions,  but  which  now  make  men¬ 
dicancy  almost  the  most  profitable  trade  a  miscellaneous 
town  population  can  pursue.  Consider  how,  when  a 
thorough  knowledge  and  a  close  and  searching  investi¬ 
gation  into  every  case  of  alleged  want  offer  the  only 
possible  means  of  controlling  pauperism  and  unmasking 
imposture,  we,  in  our  miserable  vestry  spirit  of  wasteful 
parsimony,  make  all  such  investigations  a  mockery  and 
an  impossibility  by  assigning  hundreds  of  families  to  one 
relieving  officer  and  an  imbecile  Board.  Consider  how 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


38 


public  sympathy  has  been  perpetually  enlisted  on  the 
wrong  side  by  the  mingled  stupidity  and  brutality  of 
Boards  of  Guardians,  unjust  alike  to  the  rate-payer  and 
the  poor,  who  at  the  same  moment  shocked  all  decent 
feeling  by  the  cruelty  and  stinginess  of  their  treatment 
of  the  sick  and  aged,  and  outraged  all  common-sense 
by  the  laxity  and  feebleness  of  their  dealing  with  the 
able-bodied  incorrigible  pauper,  the  systematic  vagrant, 
and  the  drunken  casual  Lastly,  read  and  think  how 
the  sin  and  folly  of  the  charitable  and  religious  have 
combined  to  convert  the  East  End  of  London  into  about 
the  most  unmanageable  heap  of  squalor,  destitution, 
drunkenness,  imposture,  and  artificial  wretchedness  on 
earth  :  —  and  then  some  faint  idea  may  be  formed  of 
how  this  monster  evil  of  our  country  might  be  got 
under  by  sound  treatment,  from  watching  how  it  has 
been  made  to  flourish  under- all  this  lavish  and  perverse 
manuring. 

Again :  we  have  fostered  our  criminal  population  just 
as  we  have  fostered  our  pauper  population,  till  this  also 
has  become  a  flourishing  established  class,  to  be  numbered, 
not  by  tens,  but  by  hundreds  of  thousands.  For  genera¬ 
tions  we  have  labored  with  our  usual  injurious  and  ever- 
varying  perversity.  There  is  scarcely  a  single  contradic¬ 
tory  mistake  that  we  have  not  committed.  It  was  long- 
before  scientific  inquiry  and  reflection  let  in  any  light 
upon  the  subject ;  and  when  light  dawned  at  last,  folly  and 
sentimentality  refused  to  follow  the  guidance  of  science. 
For  generations  our  punishments  were  so  savage  that  ju¬ 
ries  would  not  convict.  Our  constabulary  were  so  scanty 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


39 


and  inefficient  that  crime  had  practically  scarcely  any 
public  foe ;  and  when,  less  than  fifty  years  ago,  something 
like  an  adequate  police  began  to  be  set  on  foot,  there  was 
an  instant  clamor  that  the  liberties  of  the  subject  were  in 
danger.  Due  restraint  on  known  and  habitual  criminals 
is  still  impeded  in  the  name  of  the  same  much-abused 
phrase ;  and  burglars  and  felons  are  allowed  to  walk  abroad 
after  repeated  convictions,  because  the  freedom  of  English¬ 
men  is  too  sacred  to  be  touched.  The  most  mawkish  sen¬ 
timentality  is  suffered  to  prevent  the  infliction  of  the  only 
punishments  which  are  really  dreaded  by  the  hardened 
and  the  ruffianly,  as  well  as  those  which  alone  could  res¬ 
cue  and  restore  the  incipient  criminal.  We  will  not  hang 
the  murderer,  and  have  only  lately  and  gingerly  begun  to 
flog  the  garroter  and  the  mutilator ;  nor  will  we  give  ade¬ 
quately  long  terms  of  imprisonment  to  the  less  atrocious 
and  confirmed  class  of  malefactors.  We  persist,  in  spite 
of  all  warning  and  of  all  experience,  in  turning  loose  our 
villains  on  the  world,  time  after  time,  as  soon  as  a  moder¬ 
ate  term  of  detention  has  finished  their  education  and 
defined  their  future  course.  All  who  have  really  studied 
the  question  feel  satisfied  that  professional  crime,  and 
the  class  that  habitually  live  by  violation  of  the  law, 
might  be  wellnigh  exterminated  by  the  perpetual  seclusion 
of  the  incorrigible,  and  by  the  infliction  of  the  special 
penalties  which  are  truly  deterrent.  Yet  still  we  go  on 
from  day  to  day  making  the  criminals  as  comfortable 
as  we  can,  pitying  them  and  petting  them  when  an 
opportunity  occurs,  raising  an  outcry  against  any  pen¬ 
alties  which  are  painful,  and  thinking  we  have  done 


40 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


enough,  and  arguing  as  if  we  had  done  all  we  had  a 
right  to  do,  if  we  tie  the  hands  of  the  most  practised  rob¬ 
ber  and  ruffian  for  a  time.  All  wholesomeness  of  notion 
in  reference  to  this  subject  seemed  to  have  gone  out  of 
us,  and  to  be  replaced  by  sentiment  at  once  shallow  and 
morbid.  We  have  been  feeling  towards  the  criminal 
neither  as  Christians,  nor  as  statesmen,  nor  as  philoso¬ 
phers,  nor  even  as  men  of  the  world.  We  neither  abhor 
him,  nor  cure  him,  nor  disarm  him.  We  do  not  act  either 
on  the  reformatory,  or  the  retributive,  or  the  purely  defen¬ 
sive  principle,  but  on  a  feeble  muddle  of  all  three.  So  he 
lives,  and  thrives,  and  multiplies,  nourished  in  the  bosom 
of  the  silly  society  on  which  he  preys. 

Consider  again  what  might  fairly  be  expected  to  be  the 
present  state  of  the  civilized  world  if  the  whole  influence 
of  the  Church  had  been  persistently  and  sagaciously  di¬ 
rected  towards  the  improvement  of  the  moral  and  material 
condition  of  humanity  on  this  earth,  instead  of  towards 
the  promulgation  of  an  astounding  scheme  for  securing  it 
against  eternal  torments  in  a  future  existence  ;  if,  in  a  word 
[universal  not  selfish],  well-being  here,  instead  of  what 
is  called  salvation  hereafter,  had  been  the  aim  and  study 
of  the  great  organization  called  the  Church,  and  of  the 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  teachers,  both  orthodox  and 
unorthodox,  who  for  centuries  have  ostensibly  lived  and 
worked  for  no  other  end.  It  would  be  rash  to  say  that, 
on  a  balance  of  considerations,  the  Church  and  the  clergy 
of  all  denominations  have,  in  the  course  of  ages,  done  more 
harm  than  good  to  the  Christian  world  ;  but  probably  it 
would  be  rasher  still  to  assert  the  contrary.  Certain  it  is, 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


41 


that  in  many  most  material  points  they  have  worked 
counter  to  the  progress  of  mankind  in  material  and  social 
welfare,  and  in  those  departments  of  moral  improvement 
which  spring  therefrom.  They  have  inculcated  almsgiving 
on  the  rich,  and  (by  implication,  at  least  in  the  matter  of 
early  marriages)  improvidence  on  the  poor,  and  have  thus 
been  the  abettors  of  incalculable  mischief.  And  they  have 
been  able  to  quote  texts  in  defence  of  both  misteachings. 
To  the  rich  they  have  said,  “  Give  to  him  that  asketh  of 
thee  ”  ;  to  the  poor,  “  Take  no  thought  for  the  morrow, 
for  the  morrow  shall  take  thought  for  the  things  of  it¬ 
self.”  *  In  former  days  they  whetted  the  angry  passions 
of  men  by  consecrating  them  and  enlisting  them  in  the 
service  of  the  Church,  and  are  answerable  for  countless 
cruelties  and  crimes,  perhaps  for  the  very  worst  that  have 
disgraced  history.  Something  of  this  tendency,  perhaps, 
still  remains,  and  neither  charity  nor  education  can  do 
the  good  they  might  because  theology  stands  in  the  way.“f* 

*  “  Another  habit  of  the  same  category  is  that  of  marrying  early 
and  in  trust.  Kelimon  has  looked  favorably  on  this  habit.  ‘  God 
himself  bade  men  be  fruitful  and  multiply/  Let  young  people  who 
fall  in  love  marry,  or  they  may  do  worse.  ‘God  will  provide  food 
for  the  mouths  he  sends  into  the  world/  Our  Lord,  it  is  urged,  ex¬ 
horted  his  disciples  to  a  simple  dependence  on  the  heavenly  Father 
who  feeds  the  sparrows,  and  condemned  anxious  care  about  the  mor¬ 
row.  To  discourage  early  marriages  on  prudential  grounds  has  been 
stigmatized  by  religious  persons  as  a  hard,  godless,  immoral  policy.” 
—  Rev.  Llewellyn  Davies ,  “  Cont.  Rev.,”  Jan.  1871. 

t  This  is  the  result  of  much  thought  and  practical  experience  in 
a  singularly  careful,  intelligent,  and  pious  man.  “  In  charity  as  in 
education ,  the  supreme  evil  is  religion ,  —  not  true  religion,  not  that 


4*2 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


The  entire  theory  of  the  Church  is  antagonistic  to  any 
concentrated  or  consistent  scheme  for  raising  the  earthly 
condition  of  the  suffering  masses ;  and  if  practice  in  this 
respect  has  been  sounder  than  theory,  the  manifest  incon¬ 
sistency  of  the  two  has  introduced  the  further  evil  of  a 
fearful  and  fundamental  insincerity.  All  this  has  been 
so  well  put  by  other  writers  that  I  shall  prefer  their  words 
to  my  own. 

“  With  regard  to  the  influence  of  Christianity,  it  would 
seem  that  there  is  much  exaggeration  in  the  views  enter¬ 
tained  upon  that  subject,  and  even  a  misconception  of  its 
true  stand-point.  The  recent  arguments  upon  this  sub¬ 
ject  would,  in  fact,  have  been  scarcely  intelligible  to  the 
early  fathers  and  apologists,  and  if  they  had  understood 
they  would  have  rejected  them.  Their  conception  of 
Christianity  was  that  it  was  a  preparation  for  a  com¬ 
ing  age,  and  also  for  another  world,  not  an  instrument 
for  the  improvement  of  the  present ;  and  this  still  con¬ 
tinues  to  be  the  prevalent  opinion  among  those  who  con¬ 
sider  themselves  to  be  especial  Christians,  members  of 
the  body  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  To  be 
wise,  or  learned,  or  rich,  or  peaceful,  or  happy,  was  for 
the  individual  believer  rather  a  snare  and  a  peril  than  an 
advantage.  The  kingdom  of  Christ  was  not  of  this  world, 
and  its  results  were  not  to  be  looked  for  here,  unless  in 
so  far  as  they  were  realized  by  faith.  The  friendship  of 

love  which  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  hut  that  vile  devil-coined 
counterfeit  which  the  so-called  religious  world  has  stamped  with  its 
hall-mark,  and  agrees  to  receive  as  legal  tender  in  place  of  the  true 
metal.”  —  Letters  of  Edward  Denison,  p.  229. 


KEALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


43 


this  world  was  enmity  with  God.  If  the  Christian  found 
himself  in  harmony  with  circumstances ;  if  a  uniform 
course  of  steady  and  well-directed  industry,  and  an  unself¬ 
ish  regard  for  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others,  had  pro¬ 
duced  their  natural  consequences  of  material  well-being 
and  social  respect,  this  proof  of  conformity  to  the  world 
would  at  least  raise  a  presumption  that  he  had,  in  some 
degree,  deserved  the  enmity  of  God ;  at  the  lowest,  these 
temporal  blessings  might  induce  him  to  rest  satisfied  with 
his  present  lot,  might  dim  the  eye  of  faith,  and  weaken 
the  aspirations  or  even  change  the  object  of  hope.  These 
moral  virtues,  too,  were  insignificant ;  they  might  be  splen¬ 
did  sins.  Without  faith  it  was  impossible  to  please  God, 
and  with  faith  all  other  excellences  were  at  least  impli¬ 
citly  connected ;  and  considering  the  utter  insignificance, 
on  the  Christian  scheme,  of  the  present  life  as  compared 
with  the  eternity  that  was  to  follow,  no  inconvenience  or 
privation  or  suffering  was  worthy  to  be  regarded  for  a  mo¬ 
ment,  if  its  existence  removed  an  obstacle  to  the  fuller 
growth  of  the  inward  and  spiritual  life. 

“To  improve  the  moral  or  physical  aspect  of  society 
was,  therefore,  no  part  of  the  Christian  scheme.  That  it 
should,  in  fact,  have  done  so  was  no  subject  of  congratu¬ 
lation,  but  rather  to  be  feared  and  possibly  to  be  regret¬ 
ted  ;  at  any  rate,  it  was  an  absolutely  insignificant  result. 
If  one  soul  was  lost  in  consequence,  what  would  the 
earthly  happiness  and  virtue  of  millions  weigh  if  bal¬ 
anced  against  that  eternal  misery ;  and  if  not,  what  did 
it  matter  at  the  best  ?  ISTo  more  than  a  single  smile  of 
an  infant  in  its  cradle,  procured  by  some  momentary  pleas- 


44 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


ure,  as  compared  with  the  happiness  or  misery  of  its  whole 
future  life.  There  may  be  a  question  whether  this  was 
the  teaching  of  Jesus,  but  there  can  be  no  question  that 
this  is  the  spirit  of  orthodox  Christianity.”  * 

Another  writer  observes  :  — 

“  In  our  perplexity  we  naturally  direct  our  attention 
first  to  the  Church,  which  we  have  been  taught  to  look  up 
to  as  our  guide  and  instructor  in  all  our  most  important 
concerns.  What  has  been  its  action  on  the  progress  of 
the  world  and  the  happiness  of  mankind  ?  Startling  as 
the  avowal  must  appear,  we  can  hardly  help  arriving  at 
the  conclusion  that  the  Church  has  been  rather  a  hin¬ 
drance  than  a  helper  in  the  great  business  of  humanity ; 
and  that  she  is,  in  a  great  degree,  responsible  for  the  fact 
that  so  small  progress  has  been  made. 

“  Unhappily,  the  theory  on  which  the  Church  proceeds 
is  calculated  rather  to  impede  than  to  promote  man’s  hap¬ 
piness  and  well-being  in  this  world.  It  assumes  that  this 
world  is  a  fallen  world,  and  man’s  position  in  it  merely  a 
state  of  preparation  for  another  and  better  state  of  exist¬ 
ence  ;  that  man’s  happiness  here  is  a  matter  comparatively 
of  little  moment,  and  that  his  main  business  on  earth  is 
to  qualify  himself  for  happiness  in  that  future  state . 

“To  employ  the  faculties  that  God  has  given  us  in 
endeavoring  to  discover  His  laws  as  displayed  in  His  works, 
and  to  do  His  will  by  devoting  all  our  energies  to  improve 
the  condition  of  mankind  and  to  alleviate  the  misery  so 

*  “  The  Jesus  of  History,”  p.  13,  by  Sir  R.  H.  Hanson,  Chief  Jus¬ 
tice  of  South  Australia. 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


45 


prevalent  in  the  world,  and  which  mainly  arises  from  ig¬ 
norance  or  neglect  of  those  laws  ;  to  endeavor  by  honest 
labor  to  raise  ourselves  in  the  scale  of  society  ;  this,  it  is 
said,  although  it  may  be  conducive  to  man’s  happiness 
and  well-being  here,  is  not  the  way  to  prepare  for  a  future 
life.  We  are  to  renounce  this  world,  to  lay  up  no  treas¬ 
ures  here.  Riches  are  the  root  of  evil  ;  the  elements  of 
progress  and  civilization  are  matters  of  secondary  moment. 
Our  task  here  is  to  endeavor,  by  patience,  humility,  repent¬ 
ance,  faith  in  the  Redeemer,  and  through  the  efficacy  of 
the  Sacraments  of  the  Church,  to  secure  eternal  happiness 
in  Heaven.  This  is  the  assumption  of  the  Church.  If  it 
be  correct,  the  more  zealous  the  clergy  are,  and  the  more 
faithful  in  the  discharge  of  their  duties,  the  more  will  they 
endeavor  to  withdraw  attention  from  what  concerns  the 
temporal  interests  of  those  committed  to  their  charge,  in 
order  to  fix  it  the  more  steadily  on  that  which  alone,  if 
the  Church’s  theory  be  true,  is  of  real  worth,  —  the  secur¬ 
ing  of  their  happiness  in  a  future  life. 

“  It  may  perhaps  be  said,  that  though  this  is  the  theory 
of  the  Church,  yet,  in  practice,  it  does  not  discourage  a 
reasonable  attention  to  the  affairs  of  this  world  ;  and  it  is 
true  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  inconsistency  between 
the  theory  and  the  practice  of  the  Church.  The  clergy  do 
not  themselves  practise,  nor  do  they  expect  their  hearers 
to  practise,  all  that  the  theory  of  the  Church  requires  them 
to  profess.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  conventional  insincer¬ 
ity  ;  but  this  very  insincerity  is  one  of  the  serious  evils 
arising  out  of  the  artificial  system  with  which  the  Church 
is  encumbered.  It  goes  far  to  explain  the  discredit  into 


46 


KIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


which  the  Church  has  fallen,  with  the  working-classes 
especially,  and  the  powerlessness  of  the  clergy  to  make 
any  impression  by  their  teaching.”  * 

Once  more  :  — 

“  As  regards  human  life  in  general,  it  may  be  said  that 
the  industrial  theory  of  it  has  been  treated  for  the  most 
part  as  a  rival,  if  not  as  an  enemy,  by  theological  inter¬ 
ests.  The  old  traditional  teaching  of  the  Church  repre¬ 
sented  it  as  the  business  of  the  Christian  to  prepare  him¬ 
self  for  the  life  to  come.  The  things  of  this  life  were 
snares  which  he  ought,  as  far  as  possible,  to  shun.  The 
love  of  money  was  the  root  of  all  evil ;  it  was  extremely 
difficult  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heav¬ 
en.  The  man  who  accumulated  wealth  was  a  fool  not  to 
remember  that  at  any  moment  his  soul  might  be  required 
of  him.  Mediaeval'  theology,  in  an  uncompromising  spirit, 
asserted  the  superior  credit  and  reasonableness  of  a  sim¬ 
ple  ascetic  life.  It  was  better  that  a  man  should  renounce 
wealth,  marriage,  comfort,  should  withdraw  himself  from 
the  occupations  and  interests  of  secular  society,  and  de¬ 
vote  himself  wholly  to  the  pursuit  of  salvation.  Protes¬ 
tantism  recoiled  from  such  a  condemnation  of  the  present 
world,  and  its  trumpet  has  given  an  uncertain  sound  on 
this  question.  But  its  attitude  towards  industrialism  and 
secular  civilization  has  been  generally  that  of  toleration 
and  compromise.  Its  theology  has  recommended  detach¬ 
ment  from  the  world  in  the  interest  of  the  soul  and  its 
salvation.  Life  is  still  pictured  as  a  pilgrimage  through  a 

*  “  The  Problem  of  the  World  and  the  Church/’  by  a  Septuage¬ 
narian,  p.  7. 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


4  < 


trying  wilderness  to  Paradise.  But  for  various  reasons 
of  necessity  and  expediency,  Christians  may  accommodate 
themselves  innocently  and  judiciously  to  the  exigencies 
of  this  world.  Making  money  is  a  thing  of  the  earth, 
earthy ;  hut  money  is  a  powerful  instrument,  and  true 
Christians  will  not  forego  the  opportunities  it  gives  for 
promoting  the  cause  of  religion.”  * 

It  will  be  admitted  at  once,  that  in  all  the  matters 
above  referred  to  we  shall  see  our  blunders,  and  sooner  or 
later  rectify  them,  and  that  a  vast  improvement  in  the 
general  aspect  of  social  life  will  be  the  result.  But  it  may 
be  objected,  —  and  the  objection  indisputably  expresses 
the  general  sentiment,  —  after  all,  even  when  we  have 
come  to  discern  what  is  wise  and  right,  and  to  understand 
thoroughly  the  unswerving  laws  which  determine  political 
and  individual  well-being,  and  estimate  adequately  the 
consequences  of  their  neglect  or  violation,  the  old,  eternal, 
insuperable  difficulty  will  remain  to  confront  and  dis¬ 
hearten  us.  Our  passions  will  be  still  in  the  ascendant, 
speaking  in  a  louder  tone  than  either  interest  or  duty,  and 
diverting  both  personal  and  collective  action  from  that 
course  which  alone  could  realize  our  visions  of  attainable 
good.  The  ineradicable  selfishness  of  man,  the  ambition 
of  individuals,  of  nations,  of  rulers,  the  sexual  passion 
(perhaps  the  most  disturbing  and  unruly  of  all),  will  con¬ 
tinue  to  lay  waste  your  ideal  future  as  they  have  laid 
waste  the  melancholy  past. 

It  may  be  so.  But  there  are  three  sets  of  considerations 
*  Rev.  Llewellyn  Davies,  “Cont.  Rev.,”  Jan.,  1871. 


48 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


which  point  to  a  more  hopeful  issue  :  the  inevitably  vast 
change  which  cannot  fail  to  ensue  when  all  the  countless 
influences  which  hitherto  have  been  working  perversely 
in  a  wrong  direction  shall  turn  their  combined  forces  the 
other  way  ;  the  reciprocally  reacting  and  cumulative  oper¬ 
ation  of  each  step  in  the  right  course  ;  and  the  illimitable 
generations  and  ages  which  yet  lie  before  humanity  ere 
the  goal  be  reached.  Our  present  condition  no  doubt  is 
discouraging  enough ;  we  have  been  sailing  for  centuries 
on  a  wrong  tack  ;  but  we  are  beginning,  though  only  just 
beginning,  to  put  about  the  ship.  What  may  we  not 
rationally  hope  for,  when  the  condition  of  the  masses 
shall  receive  that  concentrated  and  urgent  attention  which 
has  hitherto  been  directed,  permanently  if  not  exclusively, 
to  furthering  the  interests  of  more  favored  ranks  ?  What, 
when  charity,  which  for  centuries  has  been  doing  mis¬ 
chief,  shall  begin  to  do  good  ?  What,  when  the  countless 
pulpits  that,  so  far  back  as  history  can  reach,  have  been 
preaching  Catholicism,  Anglicanism,  Presbyterianism,  Cal¬ 
vinism,  Wesleyanism,  shall  set  to  work  to  pleach  Chris¬ 
tianity  at  last  ?  Do  we  ever  even  approach  to  a  due  es¬ 
timate  of  the  degree  in  which  every  stronghold  of  vice  or 
folly  overthrown  exposes,  weakens,  and  undermines  every 
other ;  of  the  extent  to  which  every  improvement,  social, 
moral,  or  material,  makes  every  other  easier ;  of  the  count¬ 
less  ways  in  which  physical  reform  reacts  on  intellectual 
and  ethical  progress  ? 

What  a  gradual  transformation  —  transformation  almost 
reaching  to  transfiguration  —  will  not  steal  over  the  aspect 
of  civilized  communities  when,  by  a  few  generations,  dur- 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


49 


ing  which  hygienic  science  and  sense  shall  have  been  in 
the  ascendant,  the  restored  health  of  mankind  shall  have 
corrected  the  "morbid  exaggeration  of  our  appetites  ;  when 
the  more  questionable  instincts  and  passions,  less  and  less 
exercised  and  stimulated  for  centuries,  shall  have  faded 
into  comparative  quiescence  ;  when  the  disordered  consti¬ 
tutions,  whether  diseased,  criminal,  or  defective,  which 
now  spread  and  propagate  so  much  moral  mischief,  shall 
have  been  eliminated ;  when  ^sounder  systems  of  educa¬ 
tion  shall  have  prevented  the  too  early  awakening  of  nat¬ 
ural  desires ;  when  more  rational  because  higher  and  so¬ 
berer  notions  of  what  is  needful  and  desirable  in  social  life, 
a  lower  standard  of  expenditure,  wiser  simplicity  in  living, 
shall  have  rendered  the  legitimate  gratification  of  those 
desires  more  easy;  when  little  in  comparison  shall  be 
needed  for  a  happy  home,  and  that  little  shall  have  become 
generally  attainable  by  frugality,  sobriety,  and  toil  ?  *  It 

*  Reflect  for  a  moment  on  these  two  examples,  applicable  to  dif¬ 
ferent  classes.  The  (secondary)  causes  and  encouragements  of  intem¬ 
perance  are  had  air  and  unwholesome  diet,  sometimes  a  had  consti¬ 
tution,  which  create  a  craving  for  drink  ;  had  company,  which 
tempts  to  it  ;  undue  facilities,  which  conduce  to  it ;  adulteration 
of  liquors,  which  exasperates  their  pernicious  influences  ;  squalid 
homes,  which  drive  men  forth  for  cheerfulness  ;  and  the  want  of 
other  comfortable  places  of  resort,  which  leaves  them  no  refuge  hut 
the  publican’s  parlor.  What,  again,  are  the  consequences  of  intem¬ 
perance  1  Poverty,  squalid  homes,  brutality,  crime,  and  the  trans¬ 
mission  of  vitiated  constitutions.  Who  can  say  that  all  these  are 
not  preventihle  ?  Sound  administration  might  prevent  the  had  air 
of  unventilated  dwellings,  the  undue  multiplication  and  constant 
accessibility  of  gin  and  beer  shops,  and  the  poisoning  of  wholesome 

drink.  Sound  charity  might  establish  or  promote  the  establishment 

3  D 


50 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


surely  is  not  too  Utopian  to  fancy  that  our  children,  or 
our  grandchildren  at  least,  may  see  a  civil  state  in  which 
wise  and  effective  legislation,  backed  by  adequate  admin¬ 
istration,  shall  have  made  all  violation  of  law,  all  habitual 
crime,  obviously,  inevitably,  and  instantly  a  losing  game, 
and  therefore  an  extinct  profession ;  when  property  shall 
be  respected  and  not  coveted,  because  possessed  or  attain¬ 
able  by  all ;  when  the  distribution  of  wealth  shall  receive 
both  from  the  Statesman  and  the  Economist  that  sedulous 
attention  which  is  now  concentrated  exclusively  on  its 

of  workmen’s  clubs,  as  rival  scenes  of  cheerfulness  and  comfort. 
These,  in  time,  would  enormously  reduce  destitution,  and  render 
home  more  home-like  ;  and  brutality,  crime,  and  vitiated  constitu¬ 
tions  would  naturally  diminish  pari  passu,  till  the  residuum  would 
become  so  small  in  amount  that  it  could  be  easily  dealt  with.  For 
let  us  never  forget  that  it  is  the  magnitude  and  extent  of  our  social 
evils  that  render  them  so  hopeless  and  unmanageable. 

Then,  again,  look  at  that  sad  blot  upon  our  civilization  which  we 
have  got  to  call  the  Social  Evil  par  excellence.  What  are  its  second¬ 
ary  causes  ?  The  early  awakening  of  desire  by  our  vicious  and  care¬ 
less  system  of  education  ;  our  vast  population  of  idle  men,  whose 
passions  are  never  sobered  by  the  sanitary  blessing  of  severe  toil, 
and  to  hundreds  of  thousands  of  wThom  (soldiers  and  sailors)  celibacy 
is  a  necessary  condition  ;  our  want  of  adequate  training  and  diffused 
information  and  legislative  and  administrative  facilities,  which  pre¬ 
vent  those  for  whom  there  is  no  adequate  opening  to  employment 
and  success  here  from  seeking  it  abroad  ;  our  self-indulgence  and 
intemperate  habits,  which  waste  the  earnings  that,  wrell  husbanded, 
might  have  provided  means  for  an  early  marriage  and  a  happy  home  ; 
the  wretched  notions  of  luxury  which  prevail  through  so  many  strata 
of  society,  and  frighten  away  men  and  women  alike  from  a  blended 
life  that  would  entail  frugality  and  self-denial ;  the  number  of  wo¬ 
men  whom  our  blunders  and  false  notions  make  redundant,  and  the 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


51 


acquisition  ;  and  when,  though  relative  poverty  may  still 
remain,  actual  and  unmerited  destitution  shall  everywhere 
he  as  completely  eliminated  as  it  has  been  already  in  one 
or  two  fortunate  and  limited  communities.  Few  probably 
have  at  all  realized  how  near  the  possibility  at  least  of 
this  consummation  may  be.  An  intellectual  and  moral 
change,  —  both  within  moderate  and  attainable  limits,  — 
and  the  adequate  and  feasible  education  of  all  classes, 
would  bring  it  about  in  a  single  generation.  If  our  work¬ 
ingmen  were  as  hardy,  enduring,  and  ambitious  as  the 

yet  greater  number  whom  they  make  destitute  and  dependent ;  and, 
finally,  our  utterly  unsound  moral  perceptions  on  this  matter.  The 
working  of  the  social  evil  is  simply  and  obviously  to  aggravate  all 
these  things.  But  is  it  quite  hopeless  to  amend  our  education  ?  Is 
not  the  probable  tendency  of  events  to  diminish  the  number  of  mere 
fruges  consumere  nati  by  a  fairer  distribution  of  wealth  ;  and  may  we 
not  hope  that  we  are  looking,  if  not  actually  marching,  towards  a 
sounder  public  opinion  that  will  render  idleness  and  dissipation  dis¬ 
creditable  1  Is  it  utterly  irrational  to  anticipate  the  day  when  the 
cessation  of  wars  will  disband  armies,  or  convert  them  into  a  mere 
police  force,  to  the  members  of  which  domestic  life  will  be  no  im¬ 
possibility  ?  Are  we  not  already  here  and  there  beginning  to  per¬ 
ceive  that  large  means  are  not  absolutely  essential  to  a  comfortable 
and  even  refined  menage  ?  And  the  moment  simplicity  and  fru¬ 
gality  of  living  become  fashionable,  creditable,  or  even  moderately 
general,  at  that  moment  it  will  become  easy,  and  comparatively 
early  marriages  will  be  feasible  without  imprudence.  When  this  is 
achieved,  voluntary  celibacy  will  become  discreditable,  redundant 
women  will  be  absorbed,  and  those  whose  poverty  places  them  now 
at  the  mercy  of  the  tempter  will  become  fewer  and  fewer  as  the  other 
social  improvements  which  we  anticipate  begin  to  operate,  and  the 
premature  deaths  of  the  bread-winners  disappear  before  sauified  cit¬ 
ies  and  vanishing  intemperance. 


52 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


better  specimens  of  the  Scotch  peasantry,  and  valued  in¬ 
struction  as  much,  and  if  they  were  as  frugal,  managing, 
and  saving  as  the  French  peasantry,  the  work  would  be 
very  near  completion.  If  any  doubt  this,  let  them  care¬ 
fully  ponder  the  lessons  taught  experimentally  in  such 
narratives  as  the  “  Memoirs  of  William  and  Robert  Cham¬ 
bers,”  and  Somerville’s  Autobiography  of  a  Working 
Man,”  and  the  facts  set  forth  in  “  The  Proletariat  on  a 
False  Scent”  (“ Quarterly  Review,”  January,  1872),  and 
they  will  doubt  no  longer. 

It  may  sound  romantic,  at  the  end  of  a  decade  which 
has  witnessed  perhaps  the  two  most  fierce  and  san¬ 
guinary  wars  in  the  world’s  history,  to  hope  that  this 
wretched  and  clumsy  mode  of  settling  national  quar¬ 
rels  will  erelong  be  obsolete;  but  no  one  can  doubt 
that  the  commencement  of  wiser  estimates  of  national 
interests  and  needs,  the  growing  devastation  and  slaugh¬ 
ter  of  modern  wars,  the  increased  range  and  power  of 
implements  of  destruction  which,  as  they  are  employ¬ 
able  by  all  combatants,  will  grow  too  tremendous  to  be 
employed  by  any,  and  the  increasing  horror  with  which  a 
cultivated  age  cannot  avoid  regarding  such  scenes,  are 
all  clear,  if  feeble  and  inchoate,  indications  of  a  ten¬ 
dency  towards  this  blessed  consummation. 

Europe  and  England  of  to-day,  and  America  as  well, 
it  is  too  true,  offer  many  features  calculated  to  try 
severely  our  faith  that  the  face  of  the  civilized  world 
is  set  towards  a  better  day.  Nous  avons  les  defauts  de 
nos  qualite's.  Our  growing  tenderness  to  suffering  is 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


53 


accompanied  with  a .  corresponding  gentleness  towards 
wrong.*  Our  morality  grows  laxer  as  our  hearts  grow 

*  The  following  extracts  are  from  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
and  suggestive  articles  I  remember  to  have  read,  as  well  as  the 
most  beautiful  in  its  turn  of  thought  and  power  of  expression  :  — 

“  There  is  the  profoundest  danger  of  the  collapse  of  that  highest 
personal  life,  the  glory  of  which  has  been  shown  us,  before  the  con¬ 
fusion  of  the  half-lights  and  half-shadows  of  the  new  era.  Com¬ 
plexity  of  every  kind  is  the  great  condition  of  the  new  life,  — 
shades  of  thought  too  complex  to  yield  up  definite  opinions,  — 
shades  of  moral  obligation  too  complex  to  yield  up  definite  axi¬ 
oms  of  duty,  —  shades  of  insight  too  various  to  yield  up  definite 
sentences  of  approval  or  condemnation  for  the  actions  of  others. 
On  all  subjects  not  strictly  scientific,  on  all  those  mental  and  moral 
questions  which  determine  conduct  and  action,  the  growing  sense 
of  complexity  and  difficulty  is  rapidly  producing  a  relaxing  effect 
upon  the  force  of  individual  character.  In  some  sense  men  are 
blinded  by  excess  of  light.  The  simple  old  moral  law,  ‘  Thou  shalt 
not  kill,’  ‘  Thou  shalt  not  steal,’  ‘  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery,’ 
‘  Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor’s  goods,’  is  apt  to  lose  half  its 
meaning  before  multitudes  of  distinctions  which  gradually  shade 
off  forbidden  acts  into  the  most  praiseworthy  and  delicate  senti¬ 
ments,  and  leave  you  wondering  where  the  spirit  of  the  law  ends 

and  the  letter  begins. 

.  •  •  • 

“  There  is,  at  all  events,  an  immense  growth  of  this  spirit,  not 
amongst  those  who  have  most  hardship  and  suffering,  but  who 
have  least,  —  amongst  those  who  have  chiefly  reaped  the  advan¬ 
tages  of  the  new  sciences  and  arts  in  easy  life,  pleasant  tastes, 
languid  hopes,  and  feeble  faiths.  The  fear  is,  that  it  civilization 
succeeds  —  and  we  trust  it  will  succeed  —  in  raising  the  mass  of 
men  to  the  same  level  of  comparatively  satisfied  material  and 
intellectual  wants,  there  will  be  the  same  disposition  to  subside 
into  the  limited  life  of  small  attainable  enjoyments,  and  to  let 


54 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


softer.  We  are  nearly  as  charitable  'to  the  sinner  as  to 
the  sufferer.  We  condemn  nothing  very  bitterly.  We 
punish  nothing  very  severely.  We  scarcely  regard  any¬ 
thing  as  wicked  which  is  not  cruel.  Our  social  atmos¬ 
phere  is  thick  and  hazy  with  insincerities  and  unreal¬ 
ities.  We  bow  down  before  false  gods  and  we  profess 
ignoble  creeds ;  and,  what  is  almost  worse,  we  neither 
heartily  worship  the  one  nor  honestly  believe  the  other. 
We  are  not  exactly  bad,  but  neither  are  we  strong  nor 
true.  The  religion  we  profess  has  for  one  of  its  most 
significant  and  salient  features  the  denunciation  of 
wealth  as  a  trust  or  a  pursuit ;  —  Christianity  condemns 
riches  and  the  love  of  riches  as  a  snare,  a  danger,  and 
almost  a  sin ;  and  even  pagan-nurtured  sages  and  states¬ 
men  are  never  weary  of  pointing  out  how  this  disas¬ 
trous  passion  vitiates  all  our  estimates  of  life  and  its 
enjoyments,  and  fosters  and  exasperates  all  our  social 
sores.  Yet  in  England  and  America,  perhaps  the  two 

alone  the  struggles  for  perfect  freedom  and  perfect  life  in  God. 
If  it  were  true  that  with  the  beating  back  of  great  physical  wants, 
the  deepest  hunger  of  human  nature  is  to  be  laid  to  sleep,  and  life 
to  be  frittered  away  in  small  enjoyments,  no  one  could  look  upon 
human  destiny  without  a  sigh. 

“  Perhaps  it  may  be  thought  almost  an  answer  to  this  fear  to 
point  out  that  with  the  growth  of  the  self-indulgent  spirit  there  is 
very  apt  to  grow  also  a  very  strong  feeling  of  the  worthlessness  of 
life,  —  a  feeling  that  nothing  enjoyed  is  worth  the  cost  of  obtaining 
it,  that  life  itself  is  a  doubtful  good,  that  the  spring  and  elasticity 
of  youth  once  over,  and  the  sense  of  duty  smothered  in  a  sea  of 
speculative  doubt,  it  is  rather  from  indolence  than  from  love  of 
life,  that  men  prolong  the  dreary  monotony  of  unsolved  problems 
and  ungranted  prayers.”  —  Spectator,  October  19,  1867. 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


55 


most  sincerely  Christian  nations  in  the  world,  —  one 
the  cradle,  the  other  the  offspring,  of  Puritanism,  — 
the  pursuit  nearest  to  a  universal  one,  the  passion  lik- 
est  to  a  national  one,  is  money-getting ;  not  the  effort 
after  competence  or  comfort,  hut  the  pushing,  jostling, 
trampling  struggle  for  vast  possessions  or  redundant 
affluence.  Yet  already  we  fancy  we  can  see  traces, 
not  so  much  of  positive  reaction  against  these  things, 
as  of  that  sounder  perception  and  that  sick  discontent 
even  in  success  which  precede  reaction.  Progress,  too, 
is  always  fitful,  and  the  errors  and  backslidings  we  see 
around  us  now  may  be  merely  the  casual  ebb  of  the 
advancing  wave.  “Time  is  on  our  side.”  We  look  to 
advance  by  slow  accretions.  We  calculate  on  eras  al¬ 
most  geological  in  their  duration  before  the  full  attain¬ 
ment  of  an  ideal  life  on  earth.  The  moral  sense  will 
have  to  be  strengthened  and  purified  by  long  centuries 
of  increasing  good  before  it  can  do  its  perfect  work. 
But  what  are  centuries  in  the  lifetime  of  a  race  ? 
They  are  less  than  as  many  minutes  of  individual 
duration.  “  La  Providence  a  ses  aises  dans  le  temps ;  elle 
fait  un  pas,  et  des  siecles  se  trouvent  ecoules.”  *  God, 
who  spent  ages  in  fitting  the  earth  for  the  residence 
of  man,  may  well  spend  ages  more  in  fitting  rectified 
man  to  inhabit  a  renovated  earth. 

There  are,  however,  a  few  recollections  and  reflec¬ 
tions  which  justify  a  fancy  that  possibly  our  steps 
forward  may  erelong  be  incomparably  more  rapid  than 
is  here  supposed.  The  possibilities  of  human  progress  - 

*  Guizot,  Histoire  de  la  Civilisation. 


56 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


—  what  Humanity  might  achieve  if  its  known  powers 
were  steadily  applied  in  a  determinate  and  already 
indicated  direction  —  are  simply  incalulable.  Its  actu¬ 
alities  even  —  historically  recorded  or  daily  witnessed 

—  are  startling  enough.  Our  eras  of  advance  have 
been  short  and  fitful ;  but  they  have  been  wonderful 
while  they  lasted,  and  we  can  assign  no  reason  why 
they  need  have  ceased.  Look  back  two-and-twenty 
centuries.  In  about  two  hundred  years  the  Athenians 
raised  themselves  from  the  conditions  of  a  rude  and 
scarcely  civilized  people  to  the  highest  summit  which 
any  nation  has  yet  reached,  —  the  culminating  point 
of  human  intelligence.*  Conceive  that  rate  of  progress 
continued  instead  of  stopping  short,  and  applied  to  all 
departments  of  man’s  capacities  and  wants  instead  of 
to  a  few  only,  and  what  might  our  Eace  not  have 
been  now  ? 

Again,  few  phenomena  are  more  remarkable,  yet  few 
have  been  less  remarked,  than  the  degree  in  which 
material  civilization  —  the  progress  of  mankind  in  all 
those  contrivances  which  oil  the  wheels  and  promote 
the  comfort  of  daily  life  —  has  been  concentrated  into 

*  The  summit  was  attained  in  the  days  of  Pericles,  b.  c.  450. 
Grote  considers  that  the  real  history  of  Greece  began  only  in  b.  c. 
776.  The  Archonship  of  Ivreon,  with  whom  commences  the 
authentic  chronology  of  Athens,  dates  b.  c.  683  ;  but  the  real  pro¬ 
gress  of  Athens  is  comprised  between  the  time  of  Solon  (594)  or 
that  of  Pisistratus  (560),  and  that  of  Pericles  (450),  —  scarcely 
more  than  three  generations.  The  grandfather  was  born  in  a  rude 
age  ;  the  grandson  or  great-grandson  flourished  in  the  acme  of 
civilization. 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


57 


the  present  century.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that 
in  these  respects  more  has  been .  done,  richer  and  more 
prolific  discoveries  have  been  made,  grander  achieve¬ 
ments  have  been  realized,  in  the  course  of  the  fifty  or 
seventy  years  of  our  own  lifetime  than  in  all  the  pre¬ 
vious  lifetime  of  the  race,  since  states,  nations,  and 
politics,  such  as  history  makes  us  acquainted  with,  have 
had  their  being.  In  some  points,  no  doubt,  the  opposite 
of  this  is  true.  In  speculative  philosophy,  in  poetry, 
in  the  arts  of  sculpture  and  painting,  in  the  perfection 
and  niceties  of  language,  we  can  scarcely  be  said  to 
have  made  any  advance  for  upwards  of  two  thousand 
years.  Probably  no  instrument  of  thought  and  expres¬ 
sion  has  been  or  ever  will  be  more  perfect  than  Greek ; 
no  poet  will  surpass  Homer  or  Sophocles ;  no  thinker 
dive  deeper  than  Plato  or  Pythagoras ;  no  sculptor  pro¬ 
duce  more  glorious  marble  conceptions  than  Phidias  or 
Praxiteles.  It  may  well  be  that  David  and  Confucius 
and  Pericles  were  clothed  as  richly  and  comfortably  as 
George  III.  or  Louis  XVIII.,  and  far  more  becomingly. 
There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  dwellings  of 
the  rich  and  great  among  the  Romans,  Greeks,  and 
Babylonians  were  as  luxurious  and  well  appointed  as 
our  own,  as  well  as  incomparably  more  gorgeous  and 
enduring.  It  is  certain  that  the  palaces  belonging  to 
the  nobles  and  monarchs  of  the  Middle  Ages  —  to  say 
nothing  of  abbeys,  minsters,  and  temples  —  were  in 
nearly  all  respects  equal  to  those  erected  in  the  pres¬ 
ent  day,  and  in  some  important  points  far  superior. 
But  in  how  many  other  equally  significant  and  valu- 


58 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


able  particulars  has  the  progress  of  the  world  been  not 
only  concentrated  into  these  latter  days,  but  astound¬ 
ing]  y  rapid  in  its  march  ? 

Consider  only  the  three  momentous  matters  of  light,  lo¬ 
comotion,  and  communication,  and  we  shall  see  that  this 
generation  contrasts  most  surprisingly  with  the  aggregate 
of  the  progress  effected  in  all  previous  generations  put 
together  since  the  earliest  dawn  of  authentic  history. 
The  lamps  and  torches  which  illuminated  Belshazzar’s 
feast  were  probably  just  as  brilliant,  and  framed  out  of 
nearly  the  same  materials,  as  those  which  shone  upon  the 
splendid  fetes  of  Versailles  when  Marie  Antoinette  presided 
over  them,  or  those  of  the  Tuileries  during  the  Imperial 
magnificence  of  the  First  Napoleon.  Pine  wood,  oil,  and 
perhaps  wax  lighted  the  banquet-lialls  of  the  wealthiest 
nobles  alike  in  the  eighth  century  before  Christ  and  in 
the  eighteenth  century  after  Christ.  There  was  little  dif¬ 
ference,  except  in  finish  of  workmanship  and  elegance  of 
design,  —  little,  if  any,  advance,  we  mean,  in  the  illumi¬ 
nating  power,  or  in  the  source  whence  that  power  was 
drawn,  —  between  the  lamps  used  in  the  days  of  the 
Pyramids,  the  days  of  the  Coliseum,  and  the  days  of 
Kensington  Palace.  Fifty  years  ago,  that  is,  we  burnt 
the  same  articles,  and  got  about  the  same  amount  of 
light  from  them,  as  we  did  four  thousand  years  ago. 
Now,  we  use  gas  of  which  each  burner  is  equal  to  fifteen 
or  twenty  candles  ;  and  when  we  wish  for  more  can  have 
recourse  to  the  electric  light  or  analogous  inventions, 
which  are  fifty-fold  more  brilliant  and  far-reaching  than 
even  the  best  gas.  The  streets  of  cities,  which  from  the 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


59 


days  of  Pharaoli  to  those  of  Voltaire  were  dim  and  gloomy, 
even  where  not  wholly  unlighted,  now  blaze  everywhere 
(except  in  London)  with  something  of  the  brilliancy  of 
moonlight.  In  a  word,  all  the  advance  that  has  been 
made  in  these  respects  has  been  made  since  many  of 
us  were  children.  We  remember  light  as  it  was  in  the 
days  of  Solomon,  we  see  it  as  Drummond  and  Faraday 
have  made  it. 

The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  locomotion.  Nimrod 
and  Noah  travelled  just  in  the  same  way,  and  just  at 
the  same  rate,  as  Thomas  Assheton  Smith  and  Mr.  Coke 
of  Norfolk.  The  chariots  of  the  Olympic  Games  went 
just  as  fast  as  the  chariots  that  conveyed  our  nobles  to 
the  Derby,  “in  our  hot  youth,  when  George  the  Third 
was  King.”  When  Abraham  wanted  to  send  a  message 
to  Lot  he  despatched  a  man  on  horseback,  who  galloped 
twelve  miles  an  hour.  When  our  fathers  wanted  to 
send  a  message  to  their  nephews,  they  could  do  no  bet¬ 
ter,  and  go  no  quicker.  When  we  were  young,  if  we 
wished  to  travel  from  London  to  Edinburgh,  we  thought 
ourselves  lucky  if  we  could  average  eight  miles  an  hour, 
—  just  as  Eobert  Bruce  might  have  done.  Now,  in  our 
old  age,  we  feel  ourselves  aggrieved  if  we  do  not  aver¬ 
age  forty  miles.  Everything  that  has  been  done  in  this 
line  since  the  world  began  —  everything,  perhaps,  that 
the  capacities  of  matter  and  the  conditions  of  the  hu¬ 
man  frame  wTill  ever  allow  to  be  done  —  has  been  done 
since  we  were  boys.  The  same  at  sea.  Probably  when 
the  wind  was  favorable,  Ulysses,  who  was  a  bold  and 
skilful  navigator,  sailed  as  fast  as  a  Dutch  merchantman 


60 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


of  the  year  1800,  nearly  as  fast  at  times  as  an  American 
yacht  or  clipper  of  our  fathers’  day.  Now,  we  steam 
twelve  and  fifteen  miles  an  hour  with  wonderful  regular¬ 
ity,  whether  wind  and  tide  he  favorable  or  not ;  nor  is  it 
likelv  that  we  shall  ever  be  able  to  go  much  faster.  But 
the  progress  in  the  means  of  communication  is  the  most 
remarkable  of  all.  In  this  respect  Mr.  Pitt  was  no  better 
off  than  Pericles  or  Agamemnon.  If  Ruth  had  wished 
to  write  to  Naomi,  or  David  to  send  a  word  of  love  to 
Jonathan  when  he  was  a  hundred  miles  away,  they  could 
not  possibly  have  done  it  under  twelve  hours.  Nor  could 
we  to  our  own  friends  fifty  years  ago.  In  1870  the  hum¬ 
blest  citizen  of  Great  Britain  can  send  such  a  message, 
not  a  hundred  miles,  but  a  thousand,  in  twelve  minutes. 

Suppose  for  a  moment  the  advent  of  another  fifty 
years  during  which  the  activity  of  the  human  mind 
should  be  directed  towards  Chemistry  as  applied  to  Sur¬ 
gery  and  Medicine  and  hygienic  influences  in  general, 
and  some  of  the  highest  authorities  in  therapeutics  tell 
us  that  we  can  scarcely  conjecture  the  results  that  might 
be  achieved  ;  —  sleep  at  will,  with  all  the  uncalculated 
gain  of  time  which  that  implies  ;  the  conquest  of  all  pain 
not  needed  as  a  warning ;  the  prevention  of  infant  and 
gratuitous  mortality  ;  the  extinction  of  epidemic  diseases, 
as  leprosy  and  the  plague  have  become  extinct  in  Europe. 

But  it  will  be  said,  all  these  are  material  matters,  and 
the  vastest  advance  may  be  attained  in  those  without  any 
consequent  approach  to  your  ideal  State.  Scarcely:  ma¬ 
terial  victories  and  achievements  make  intellectual  and 
moral  ones  attainable.  But  suppose  again,  —  what  no 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


61 


reader  of  History  will  deem  a  wild  supposition,  —  sup¬ 
pose  the  advent  of  a  man,  filled  and  fired  with  “  the 
enthusiasm  of  Humanity,”  and  imbued  with  the  true 
conception  of  progress,  —  the  prophet  of  a  grand  yet 
realizable  Ideal.  Suppose  such  seed  as  he  could  sow 
falling  on  a  prepared  and  fertile  soil,  and  in  a  favorable 
season.  Such  prophets  have  been  raised  up  in  the  past, 
and  such  happy  conjunctions  of  suitable  conditions  have 
occurred.  Imagine  a  Statesman  or  Leader,  of  fervid  elo¬ 
quence,  convincing  logic,  with  sound  conceptions  both  of 
ends  and  means,  preaching  to  an  educated  people,  at  a 
happy  epoch,  —  and  why  should  he  not  inaugurate  a  gen¬ 
eration  of  sustained  and  rightly  guided  effort  which  would 
revolutionize  for  good,  and  for  all  time,  our  entire  social 
and  moral  surroundings  ?  Surely  Human  Nature  is  not 
so  changed  or  sunk  that  spiritual  forces  cannot  again  work 
greater  marvels  than  mechanical  or  chemical  or  economic 
agencies  have  done.  Thought  has  not  yet  grown  feebler 
than  electricity  and  gases  in  moulding  the  destinies  of 
man.* 

*  The  following  quotation,  in  an  analogous  line  of  thought,  will 
be  found  suggestive,  if  not  acceptable  (“  Spectator/’  August  8, 
1868)  :  — 

“  We  write  and  chatter,  but  none  of  us  know  what  a  community 
in  which  the  majority  was  sovereign,  and  each  man  was  as  compe¬ 
tent  to  form  an  opinion  as  an  average  county  member  now  is,  would 
be  like.  That  is  an  advance  conceivable  without  revolution,  and  no 
change  we  have  yet  encountered  could  so  completely  transform 
Western  society,  its  conditions,  its  ways,  and  it  may  well  be,  its  ob¬ 
jects.  A  happy  life  might  become  the  ideal  instead  of  a  progressive 
life,  and  half  the  existing  social  motors  cease  to  act.  All  the  new 


62 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


There  are,  however,  three  antagonistic  agencies  to  be 
considered,  the  tendency  of  which  appears  hostile  to  all 
continuons  progress  or  radical  and  far-reaching  amelio¬ 
ration  ;  and  which,  if  they  be  really  as  persistent  and 
incurable  as  they  seem,  must  be  fatal  to  the  realization 
of  our  dreams  of  the  ultimate  happiness  of  mankind,  or 

experiments  in  living  tried  in  America  have  had  that  for  ultimate 
end,  and  have  had  as  chiefs  men  above  the  uncultivated  class,  men 
usually  who  have  just  emerged  from  the  uncivilized  stage.  Society 
as  it  is,  is  not  the  ultimate  outcome  of  human  thought,  —  if  it  be, 
the  best  thing  men  can  do  is  to  give  up  the  struggle  to  improve 
others,  and  go  in  for  self-cultivation  alone,  as  the  highest  Americans 
seem  disposed  to  do  ;  but  without  dreaming  of  social  revolutions, 
let  us  think  what  universal  and  tolerably  equal  education  really 
implies.  Well,  this,  for  one  thing,  that  work  shall  be  paid  for  in 
proportion  to  its  disagreeableness,  —  a  very  prosaic  and  undeniable 
proposition,  which  of  itself  and  by  itself  would  grind  all  existing  ar¬ 
rangements  into  powder.  Imagine  the  man  who  carts  muck  better 
paid  than  the  man  who  sells  tapes  !  a  change  actually  visible  in  full 
work  in  Illinois  and  Michigan.  There  is  no  need  to  talk  about  pos¬ 
sible  republics  and  impossible  equalities,  about  the  effect  of  household 
suffrage  or  the  decay  of  the  feudal  idea  ;  education,  if  we  get  it,  will 
of  itself  be  a  sufficient  solvent ;  and  getting  it,  though  improbable, 
is  far  less  impossible  than  the  extinction  of  feudalism  once  appeared. 

“  Or  suppose  a  new  creed,  or  new  development  of  the  great  exist¬ 
ing  creed,  takes  a  strong  hold  of  the  masses  of  the  West.  Observers 
think  they  see  a  strong  tendency  towards  secularism,  —  a  creed  that, 
if  adopted,  would  pulverize  existing  society,  which,  with  all  its  faults, 
is  not  based  on  the  theory  of  securing  the  greatest  comfort  in  this 
world  ;  but  let  us  imagine  that  history  is  true,  that  men  will  not 
live  without  a  religious  belief,  and  that  the  belief  will  probably  have 
some  connection  with  the  root  faith  of  the  last  few  centuries,  be,  in 
fact,  a  new  form  of  Christianity.  How  great  —  let  rectors  say  — 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


63 


must  relegate  that  realization  to  a  world  of  wholly  al¬ 
tered  conditions.  These  agencies  are,  —  first ,  the  alleged 
perpetual  and  inevitable  struggle  for  mere  existence ; 
secondly,  the  multiplication  of  the  race  from  its  least 
eligible  specimens,  or,  as  it  has  been  happily  termed,  the 
non-survival  of  the  fittest;  and,  thirdly,  the  increasing 

would  be  the  change  produced  by  a  general  impression  that  we 
ought  to  live  as  Christ  lived,  or  as  He  said  we  ought  to  live,  to  take 
His  teaching  as  it  stands,  and  not  as  the  learned  have  for  a  few  ceil- 
turies  declared  that  He  meant  it  to  stand  ?  How  would  wealth  and 
poverty  face  each  other  then  ?  Or  suppose  the  enthusiasm  of  hu¬ 
manity  to  get  a  strong  hold  upon  men.  It  is  odd,  but  it  is  true,  that 
the  only  people  who  seem  nowadays  willing  to  be  “  faithful  unto 
slaying  ”  —  not,  be  it  noticed,  merely  “  unto  being  slain  ” —  are  the 
enthusiasts,  the  John  Browns,  Garibaldis,  and  Louis  Blancs  of  all 
sorts  upon  whom  that  enthusiasm  has  descended.  How  would  our 
social  arrangements  stand  that  new  strain  ?  Or  suppose  the  change 
mainly  one  of  dogma,  —  that,  for  example,  Western  mankind  in 
general  got  into  its  head  the  idea,  which  many  English  clergymen 
have  got  into  theirs,  that  the  prize  offered  by  Christianity  is  eternal 
life,  that  the  phrases  eternal  life  and  eternal  death  are  literally  true, 
that  man  either  rejoins  Christ  or  dies  like  a  flower,  —  would  not  that 
act  as  a  pretty  rapid  solvent  of  institutions  ?  We  think  we  could 
advance  some  strong  reasons  for  believing  that  of  all  the  heresies 
current  among  us,  that  is,  perhaps,  the  most  enticing  and  most  dan¬ 
gerous  ;  but  it  is  but  one  of  a  hundred,  any  one  of  which  may  for  a 
moment  prevail,  and  in  prevailing  make  the  next  half-century 
a  period  of  change  before  which  the  last  half-century  will  seem 
stable  and  uneventful. 

“  That  any  change  of  all  those  that  we  have  indicated  will  occur  is 
perhaps  improbable,  but  not  one  of  them  is  impossible,  and  in  each 
is  contained  the  germ  of  innovations  to  which  those  of  our  period  of 
‘  concentrated  progress  ’  will  seem  but  small  and  weak.” 


i 


64 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


prevalence  of  democratic  views  and  institutions, — a  prev¬ 
alence  which  many  deem  irresistible  and  fated.  The  two 
former  I  shall  consider  in  separate  chapters ;  the  last,  as 
I  propose  to  deal  with  it  very  briefly,  I  may  as  well 
speak  of  here. 

The  case  is  simply  this.  The  ultimate  realization  of 
our  ideal  depends  upon  all  the  influences  which  determine 
the  condition  and  improvement  of  a  community  —  its  po¬ 
litical  and  social  action,  its  legislation  and  administration, 
the  education  of  the  people  (using  that  word  in  its  widest 
sense,  to  include  the  education  of  life  as  well  as  of  infancy, 
the  teaching  of  the  pulpit  as  well  as  of  the  school-room), 
its  sanitary  laws,  its  municipal  government,  its  property 
arrangements  —  being  set  and  continued  in  a  right  direc¬ 
tion  ;  that  is,  being  guided  by  a  sincere  purpose  towards 
good,  and  by  competent  wisdom  to  determine  how  that 
good  may  most  surely  be  attained.  Now,  as  civilized  and 
social  life  grows  daily  more  rapid  and  more  complex,  and 
the  problems  with  which  it  has  to  deal  therefore  at  once 
vaster,  more  difficult,  and  more  urgent,  the  largest  intel¬ 
lects  and  the  widest  knowledge  are  needed  to  handle  them 
and  solve  them ;  intellects  the  least  liable  to  be  clouded 
by  interest  or  passion,  and  the  most  qualified  by  training 
and  study  to  foresee  the  consequences,  and  detect  the  cor¬ 
relations  and  reciprocal  operation  on  different  classes,  of 
each  law  or  executive  proceeding.  The  science  of  govern¬ 
ment  is  the  most  intricate  and  perplexing  of  all,  demand¬ 
ing  mental  and  moral  qualities  of  a  higher  order  than  any 
other.  Self-government,  as  it  is  not  very  correctly  termed, 
is  assuredly  not  the  simplest  form  of  rule.  Yet  at  the 


65 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 

very  time  when  the  influences  which  determine  the  well¬ 
being  of  the  community  are  growing  more  numerous  and 
involved,  and  the  problems  of  social  life  more  complicated 
and  more  vast,  the  spread  of  democratic  ideas  and  institu¬ 
tions  is  throwing  the  control,  the  management,  the  ulti¬ 
mate  decision,  at  least,  of  all  these  influences  and  problems, 
the  final  guidance  of  all  administrative  and  legislative  ac¬ 
tion,  in  short,  into  the  hands  of  the  numerical  majority, 
—  of  those  classes,  that  is,  which,  however  their  condition 
as  to  property  and  education  and  morals  may  be  raised, 
must  always  be  the  least  educated  portion  of  the  commu¬ 
nity,  the  least  endowed  with  political  capacity,  the  least 
possessed  of  either  the  leisure,  the  characteristics,  or  the 
knowledge  requisite  for  the  functions  assigned  to  them  or 
assumed  by  them.  The  masses  may  no  longer  be  very 
poor,  or  very  ignorant,  or  in  any  way  ill-disposed;  but 
under  no  conditions  can  they  help  being  more  ignorant, 
more  engrossed  with  the  struggle  for  individual  well-being, 
more  unqualified  to  foresee  or  consider  remote  and  collat¬ 
eral  consequences,  more  unable  to  deal  patiently,  largely, 
consistently,  and  profoundly  with  the  questions  which 
occupy  the  statesman  and  affect  the  life  of  nations,  than 
those  other  classes  to  whom  wealth  gives  leisure  to  grow 
wise.  The  few  —  intellectually  at  least,  and  in  all  those 
moral  qualifications  which  directly  or  indirectly  are  con¬ 
nected  with  intellect  —  must  always,  and  as  it  would  seem 
unavoidably,  be  fitter  to  bear  rule,  abler  to  govern  right¬ 
eously  and  sagaciously,  than  the  many. 

Yet,  unquestionably,  the  tendency  of  events  in  our  days, 
and  in  all  civilized  countries,  is  to  take  political  jDow'er 


66 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


from  the  few  and  confer  it  on  the  many ;  and  in  the  view 
of  Tocqueville  and  his  disciples  this  tendency  is  absolutely 
irresistible.  If  so,  what  must  be  its  operation  on  those 
who  wish  to  look  sanguinely  on  the  prospects  of  human¬ 
ity  ?  For  the  few  cannot  easily  take  back  power  from  the 
many  on  whom  they  have  conferred  it ;  and  history  re¬ 
cords  no  encouraging  instances  of  the  mass  voluntarily 
surrendering  a  supremacy  they  have  once  enjoyed.  Nor 
does  our  observation  of  democratic  communities,  even  the 
most  favored,  do  much  to  alter  or  impair  the  conclusions 
at  which  a  priori  we  have  arrived.  The  United  States, 
France,  and  even  Switzerland,  at  present,  are  not  con¬ 
soling  spectacles. 

I  have  little  to  urge  against  the  validity  of  the  above 
reasoning,  or  in  mitigation  of  the  depressing  conclusions 
to  which  it  logically  points.  If  democratic  —  or  I  would 
rather  say,  ochlocratic  —  influences  and  institutions  are  to 
spread  and  bear  sway  permanently,  then  the  day  of  my 
cherished  vision  must  indeed  be  distant.  But  I  do  not 
believe  the  tendency  to  be  so  irresistible  as  is  fancied.  I 
am  not  sure  that  it  may  not  contain  within  it  the  seeds 
of  a  counteracting  and  correcting  agency.  That  the  con¬ 
cerns  and  feelings  of  the  masses  are  obtaining  increased 
and  paramount  consideration  in  our  days,  is  a  hopeful 
sign  of  the  times  at  which  we  must  all  rejoice.  If  this 
had  been  always  so,  or  had  been  so  in  time,  probably  the 
occasion  for  handing  over  political  power  to  the  masses 
might  never  have  arisen  ;  nor  would  the  phenomenon  have 
been  so  formidable  when  it  did  arise.  If  the  interests  of 
the  lower  classes  are  dealt  with,  even  at  this  eleventh 


REALIZABLE  IDEALS. 


67 


hour,  in  a  generous,  candid,  sympathetic  spirit,  according 
to  the  dictates  of  simple  justice,  and  on  principles  of  wise 
policy  and  sound  economy,  I  am  even  inclined  to  believe 
that  the  potentiality  of  paramount  rule  in  political  matters, 
so  rashly  conferred  upon  them,  may  never  he  actually  re¬ 
alized  or  exercised.  There  are  two  or  three  very  signifi¬ 
cant  and  reassuring  circumstances  which  it  is  desirable  to 
note.  Neither  in  England,  nor  in  America,  nor  in  France, 
have  ochlocratic  institutions  (those  giving  political  power 
to  the  mere  masses,  the  numerical  majority)  been  obtained 
by  the  masses  by  their  own  strength  or  on  their  own  de¬ 
mand.  In  every  instance  they  have  been  conceded  by  the 
folly,  the  weakness,  the  short-sightedness,  and  generally 
by  the  sinister  and  clashing  interests  of  those  above  them. 
In  America,  universal  suffrage,  conferring  electoral  rights 
on  Irish  and  German  emigrants  before  they  had  acquired 
any  •  one  of  the  qualifications  of  good  citizens,  was  the 
result  of  unpatriotic  and  improvident  party  conflict,  for 
the  sake  of  obtaining  a  dear-bought  victory  by  the  help 
of  “  the  foreign  vote.”  Bitterly  have  the  Americans  paid 
for  their  folly,  and  clearly  do  they  now  recognize  the 
error.  In  precisely  the  same  manner,  though  in  a  less 
extreme  and  obvious  shape,  is  the  household  suffrage  we 
have  now  established  here  the  result  of  the  strife  for  power 
between  Conservative  and  Liberal  Governments,  and  per¬ 
haps  the  most  pernicious  of  its  consequences.  In  France, 
as  is  every  year  becoming  more  recognized  by  all  students 
of  her  history,  the  ochlocracy  which  is  now  driving  her  to 
seemingly  irretrievable  downfall  is  traceable  to  the  fatal 
weakness  of  monarch  and  ministers  alike  in  February, 


68 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


1848,  when  a  Parliamentary  demand  for  a  very  moderate 
extension  of  a  very  restricted  franchise  was  allowed  to 
become  first  a  street  riot  and  then  a  mob  revolution, 
though  ordinary  determination  and  consistency  of  pur¬ 
pose  among  the  authorities  might  have  prevented  it  from 
ever  growing  beyond  the  dimensions  of  a  mere  police 
affair,  and  have  crushed  it  at  the  outset. 

In  England,  if  the  latent  electoral  power  of  the  masses 
ever  becomes  noxiously  formidable,  —  which  no  doubt  is 
possible  enough)  so  little  wise  and  patriotic  are  our  gen¬ 
eral  class  of  politicians,  —  it  will  be  owing  to  one  of  two 
things,  or  to  a  combination  of  both  ;  either  to  a  neglect,  or  . 
supposed  hostility,  or  disheartening  want  of  sympathy,  on 
the  part  of  the  governing  classes  to  the  wants  and  inter¬ 
ests  of  those  masses  ;  or,  more  probably,  to  the  rival  fac¬ 
tions  in  the  State  seeking  to  use  and  organize  the  votes 
of  the  working  classes  on  their  own  behalf  respectively,  as 
against  their  antagonists.  As  long  as  property  is  safe  and 
its  rights  respected,  the  legitimate  and  inevitable  influence 
it  must  ever  wield,  directly  and  through  the  accessories 
which  belong  to  it  (of  which  wealth  and  superior  knowl¬ 
edge,  refinement  and  intelligence,  are  the  principal),  is  so 
enormous  that  we  cannot  doubt  its  winning  an  easy  vic¬ 
tory  in  any  social  struggle,  and  even  warding  off  the  near 
approach  of  any  such  struggle,  provided  only  the  holders 
of  property  hang  together  and  recognize  in  time  the  danger 
of  division  in  their  ranks ;  and  there  is  surely  sagacity 
and  foresight  enough  to  create  close  union  among  all  pos- 
sessional  classes  at  the  first  serious  menace  to  the  security 
and  sacredness  of  property.  This  is  the  first  safeguard 


REALIZBALE  IDEALS. 


69 


we  have  to  trust  to.  The  second  is  a  pleasanter  one  to 
think  of.  It  is  that  the  great  bulk  of  the  community  — 
engrossed  more  or  less  in  daily  labor,  interested  and  occu¬ 
pied  mainly  in  the  matters  that  lie  close  about  them  and 
concern  them  most  urgently,  earing  usually  for  political 
questions  only  or  chiefly  inasmuch  as  these  affect,  or  are 
supposed  to  affect,  their  own  condition  —  will  be  willing 
enough,  partly  from  indolence  and  indifference,  partly  from 
a  vague  impression  that  their  superiors  understand  these 
matters,  and  that  they  themselves  do  not,  to  leave  them 
in  the  hands  of  the  upper  classes ;  provided  only  these 
classes  are  wise  and  just  enough  to  take  care  that  no  mani¬ 
fest  wrong,  no  irritating  or  grinding  misery,  and  no  un¬ 
sympathetic  or  insolent  neglect,  shall  ever  rouse  the  mil¬ 
lions,  wdio  would  otherwise  lie  contented  and  quiescent, 
to  seize  the  reins  or  to  upset  the  coach.  “  Pour  le  peuple,  ce 
n’est  jamais  par  envie  d’attaquer  qu’il  se  souleve,  rnais  par 
impatience  de  souffrir.”  We  might,  perhaps,  hope  that, 
just  in  proportion  as  the  working  classes  are  comfortable, 
prosperous,  and  educated,  will  they  be  disinclined  to  med¬ 
dle  in  governmental  affairs  (which  are  always  laborious 
and  harassing,  and  seldom  remunerative  or  satisfactory) ; 
but  this  cannot  be  predicted  with  any  confidence.  It  is 
rational,  however,  to  anticipate  that  the  better  the  masses 
are  governed,  the  less  anxious  they  will  be  to  undertake 
the  heavy  burden  and  the  hard  task  of  governing  them¬ 
selves. 


4 


II 

MALTHTTS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


MALTHITS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


HR  HE  hopes  of  indefinite  progress  and  attainment 
-L  expressed  in  the  opening  chapters  are  by  no  means 
new.  They  have  reappeared  at  different  epochs.  They 
have  been  cherished  by  some  men  in  all  ages,  and  by 
whole  nations  and  continents  fitfully  and  during  short 
periods. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  more 
than  two  generations  since,  a  sudden  glow  of  this  san¬ 
guine  faith  in  man’s  future  spread  over  the  world.  A 
new  era  seemed  to  be  opening  for  humanity.  Not  only 
the  unthinking  multitudes,  but  men  of  large  experience 
and  devoid  neither  of  great  reasoning  nor  of  great  ob¬ 
serving  powers,  —  not  only  the  young  and  ardent,  but 
the  old  and  contemplative,  —  dreamed  of  perfectibility 
as  well  as  of  progress ;  of  an  approaching  time  in  which 
both  the  moral  and  the  physical  condition  of  our  species 
should  become  thoroughly  satisfactory,  —  subject  only  to 
the  one  drawback  of  mortality,  and  of  mortality  reduced 
to  its  simplest  elements,  to  the  mere  fact  of  death  in 
the  ripeness  of  age  and  preparation ;  of  a  state  of  things 
in  which  every  man  having  enough  of  the  necessaries, 

4 


74 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


comforts,  and  even  luxuries  of  life  should  have  no 
motive  to  envy  or  despoil  his  neighbor,  and  in  which, 
therefore,  all  bad  passions  would  die  out  from  mere 
lack  of  nourishment.  In  a  word,  “  our  young  men  saw 
visions  and  our  old  men  dreamed  dreams,”  and  they 
not  only  cherished  but  actually  believed  in  their  visions 
and  their  dreams.  Men  like  Southey  and  Coleridge  and 
Kobert  Owen,  as  in  later  times  and  in  another  country 
men  like  Fourier  and  St.  Simon,  had  their  pictures  and 
their  programmes  and  their  panaceas,  —  and  not  only 
men  of  that  stamp,  but  far  soberer  and  acuter  minds. 
Those  who  wish  to  realize  to  themselves  the  sort  of 
enthusiasm  which  anticipation  of  a  state  of  diffused 
comfort  and  universal  plenty  and  well-being  excited  in 
the  general  imagination,  and  of  the  boundless  delight 
and  sweeping  confidence  with  which  it  was  received,  and 
who  have  not  patience  to  master  the  whole  social  and 
literary  history  of  Europe  from  1783  to  1793,  should 
read  Godwin’s  “  Political  J ustice,”  and  ask  their  grandfa¬ 
thers  to  describe  the  glow  of  generous  emotion  with  which 
they  followed  the  speculations  of  that  singular  book. 

An  answer,  however,  shortly  appeared  to  Mr.  Godwin 
which  shattered  all  his  brilliant  pictures  of  an  earthly 
paradise,  and  overwhelmed  all  such  philanthropic  dream¬ 
ers  with  despondency  and  gloom,  —  and  this  cruel  shock 
was  administered  by  a  man  of  singular  benevolence  and 
piety,  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England.  Malthus 
demonstrated*  or  was  held  to  demonstrate,  that  such  a 

*  The  first  edition  of  the  Essay  on  the  “  Principle  of  Popula¬ 
tion”  was  published  in  1798. 


M  ALT  H  U  S  N  0  T  WITH  S  TAN  DING. 


75 


condition  of  universal  comfort  and  plenty  as  was  shad¬ 
owed  forth  could  never  be  reached  on  earth,  —  inasmuch 
as  there  was  a  constant  and  irremediable  pressure  of 
population  on  the  means  of  subsistence  ;  that  it  was  in 
the  nature,  in  the  essence,  of  human  beings  to  increase 
in  a  more  rapid  ratio  than  food ;  that  as  long  as  and 
whenever  population  did  increase  faster  than  its  suste¬ 
nance,  the  great  mass  of  mankind  must  be  in  a  state 
of  wretchedness ;  and  that  this  incurable  tendency  could 
only  be  counteracted  by — what  were  merely  other  forms 
of  wretchedness  —  viz.,  profligacy,  excessive  and  prema¬ 
ture  mortality,  or  abstinence  from  marriage,  —  or,  as  he 
phrased  it,  by  vice,  misery,  or  moral  restraint.  In  other 
words,  he  maintained,  and  seemed  to  have  proved,  that 
mankind  could  only  secure  that  sufficiency  of  food  for 
all,  which  is  the  indispensable  and  main  condition  of 
virtue  and  comfort,  on  terms  which  must  be  held  to 
preclude  comfort  and  imperil  virtue,  —  with  the  majority, 
with  all  ordinary  men,  in  fact,  to  be  fatal  to  both ; 
that  is,  by  seeing  most  of  their  children  die  almost  as 
soon  as  they  came  into  the  world,  or  by  themselves  and 
their  fellows  dying  rapidly  and  prematurely  from  defect 
of  nutriment ;  or  by  wilfully  preventing  children  coming 
into  the  world  at  all ;  or  by  resisting  and  foregoing,  habit¬ 
ually  and  generally,  sometimes  altogether,  always  during 
the  most  craving  period  of  life,  those  imperious  longings 
of  the  senses,  and  that  equally  imperious  “  hunger  of  the 
heart,”  which,  combined,  constitute  the  most  urgent 
necessity  of  our  nature,  and  which  the  Creator  must 
have  made  thus  urgent  for  wise  and  righteous  purposes. 


76 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


It  is  obvious  on  a  moment’s  consideration  that  the 
two  former  of  the  above  three  named  terms  on  which 
alone,  according  to  the  Malthusian  theory,  plenty  can 
be  secured  for  all,  may  be  left  out  of  consideration,  and 
that  practically,  the  sole  condition  is  the  last,  —  namely, 
the  postponement  of  marriage  as  a  rule  during  the  years 
when  it  is  usually  most  desired,  and  the  abstinence 
from  it  in  many  cases  altogether  ;  in  a  word,  resolute, 
self-enforced,  and  prolonged  celibacy,  precisely  at  that 
epoch  of  life,  under  those  circumstances,  and  among 
those  classes,  in  which  celibacy  is  most  difficult ;  that 
is  (as  the  rough  common  feelings  of  mankind  at  large 
would  put  it),  that  life  in  plenty  and  comfort  can  only 
be  obtained  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  chief  comfort  in  life, 
and  of  those  joys  without  which  even  a  life  of  material 
plenty  is  a  very  poor  and  questionable  boon.  And,  be 
it  observed,  this  is  the  form  the  proposition  must  inev¬ 
itably  assume  in  the  minds,  not  of  the  vicious,  the  sen¬ 
sual,  the  weak,  or  the  self-indulgent  portion  of  mankind, 
but  of  the  natural,  unsophisticated,  right-feeling,  sensi¬ 
ble  —  though,  if  you  will,  unregenerate  and  unsanctified 
—  mass  of  mankind. 

No  wonder  that  a  proposition,  which  seemed  to  con¬ 
demn  the  human  species  to  such  hopeless,  universal, 
eternal,  nay,  ever-increasing  pressure  and  privation, 
or  to  proffer  an  escape  from  that  lot  at  a  price  which 
few  could  pay,  and  few  would  think  worth  paying, 
should  have  staggered  and  shocked  those  to  whom  it 
was  first  propounded.  It  sounded  like  the  sentence  to 
a  doom  of  utter  darkness  and  despair.  It  seemed  to 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


77 


untrained  minds  utterly  irreconcilable  with  any  intelli¬ 
gent  view  of  the  Divine  beneficence  and  wisdom.  Yet 
its  author  appeared  to  have  framed  his  conclusion  with 
such  caution,  and  to  have  clinched  it,  so  to  speak,  with  such 
close  bands  of  logic  and  with  such  a  large  and  indispu¬ 
table  induction  of  facts,  that  recalcitration  against  it  was 
idle,  and  refutation  of  it  impossible.  He  maintained 
it  after  full  discussion,  and,  with  some  modifications, 
to  the  end  of  his  career;  and  nearly  all  political  econo¬ 
mists  of  position  and  repute  have  accepted  his  doctrine 
as  a  fundamental  and  established  axiom  of  the  science. 

Malthus  never  endeavored  fo  blink  the  full  scope  and 
severity  of  his  proposition.  In  an  article  on  Population, 
which  he  contributed  to  the  eighth  edition  of  the  “  Ency¬ 
clopaedia  Britannica,”  and  which  I  believe  was  the  latest 
of  his  writings  on  that  subject,  he  reproduces  it  in  the 
most  uncompromising  terms.  He  lays  it  down  as  indis¬ 
putable  and  obvious,  that  population,  if  unchecked,  neces¬ 
sarily  increases  in  a  geometrical  ratio,  and  that  food,  the 
produce  of  the  soil,  can  only  at  the  outside  and  under  the 
most  favorable  circumstances  increase  in  an  arithmetical 
ratio.  That  the  inhabitants  of  a  given  country  or  area 
will,  as  is  seen,  actually  double  their  numbers  in  twenty- 
five  years,  and  might  easily  double  their  numbers  in  a 
much  shorter  time ;  whereas,  even  if  we  concede  that  in 
the  same  twenty-five  years  the  produce  of  the  soil  in  the 
same  given  country  or  area  may  be  doubled  likewise,  it  is 
certain  that  in  the  next  twenty-five  years,  while  the  popu¬ 
lation  would  again  double  itself  or  quadruple  its  original 
numbers,  the  soil  could  at  the  very  utmost  only  again  add 


78 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


an  equal  increment  to  that  of  the  preceding  period,  or  treble 
its  original  yield.  What  is  true  of  a  given  country,  farm, 
or  district,  he  proceeds  to  say,  must  necessarily  be  true  of 
the  whole  earth  ;  and  neither  emigration,  free-trade,  nor 
equal  distribution  of  the  land  can  affect  the  ultimate  re¬ 
sult.  All  that  these  could  effect  would  be  a  temporary 
alleviation  of  the  pressure  of  population  and  subsistence, 
and  a  certain  calculable  postponement  of  the  day  when 
the  ultimate  limit  of  possible  numbers  and  the  extreme 
point  of  pressure  would  be  reached.  “  Taking  a  single 
farm  only  into  consideration,  no  man  would  have  the  har¬ 
dihood  to  assert  that  its  produce  could  be  made  perma¬ 
nently  to  keep  pace  with  a  population  increasing  at  such 
a  rate,  as  it  is  observed  to  do,  for  twenty  or  thirty  years 
together,  at  particular  times  and  in  particular  countries.” 
This  is  obvious  and  undeniable,  and  may  be  conceded  at 
once.  But,  he  goes  on  to  say,  “  nothing  but  the  confusion 
and  indistinctness  arising  from  the  largeness  of  the  sub¬ 
ject,  and  the  vague  and  false  notions  which  prevail  re¬ 
specting  the  efficacy  of  emigration,  could  make  persons 
deny  in  the  case  of  an  extensive  territory,  or  of  the  ivhole 
earth ,  what  they  could  not  fail  to  acknowledge  in  the  case 
of  a  single  farm,  which  may  be  said  fairly  to  represent  it.” 
There  must  always,  everywhere,  and  to  the  end  of  time, 
he  maintains,  except  in  the  rarest  cases  and  for  the  brief¬ 
est  periods,  be  pressure  of  population  on  the  means  of 
subsistence.  “  It  is  to  the  laws  of  nature,  therefore,  and 
not  to  the  conduct  or  institutions  of  man,  that  we  are  to 
attribute  the  necessity  of  a  strong  and  ceaseless  check  on 
the  natural  increase  of  population.” 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING.  79 

'  Malthus’s  doctrine  lias  been  accepted  as  undeniable  by 
nearly  every  writer  of  repute  on  economical  subjects,  and 
by  none  more  unreservedly  than  by  the  latest,  and  in  some 
respects  the  greatest  of  them  all,  J.  S.  Mill.  None  of  the 
many  authors  who  have  questioned  or  assailed  it,  such  as 
Ingram,  Alison,  Sadler,  Doubleday,  or  Quetelet,  have  been 
able  to  shake  in  any  material  degree  its  hold  upon  the 
public  mind.  Various  theories  have  been  put  forward  in 
competition,  but  none  has  obtained  any  currency,  or  per¬ 
haps  deserved  any.  It  has  remained  the  fixed,  axiomatic 
belief  of  the  educated  world,  that  pressure  of  numbers  on 
the  means  of  subsistence  is  and  must  remain  the  normal 
condition  of  humanity ;  that,  in  consequence,  distress  or 
privation,  in  one  shape  or  another,  must  be  the  habitual 
lot  of  the  great  majority  of  our  species,  since  they  can 
only  escape  the  distress  and  privation  arising  from  insuf¬ 
ficient  food  by  voluntarily  embracing  the  distress  and  pri¬ 
vation  involved  in  long-continued  and  perhaps  perpetual 
celibacy.  .Reasoning  the  most  careful  and  cogent  seemed 
to  have  made  this  clear,  and  the  observation  and  experi¬ 
ence  of  every  day  and  every  land  seemed  to  illustrate  and 
confirm  it. 

Some  years  ago  I  hoped  to  be  able  to  show,  in  opposition 
to  this  received  doctrine,  that,  however  irrefutable  was  Mal¬ 
thus’s  logic,  his  premises  were  inrperfect,  and  his  conclusions 
in  consequence  unsound.  It  is  with  some  sadness  I  am  now 
compelled  to  admit  that  further  investigation  and  deeper 
thought  have  shaken  this  confidence.  I  now  only  venture 
to  suggest  as  eminently  probable  what  I  once  fancied  I 
could  demonstrate  to  be  certain.  I  still,  however,  entertain 


80 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


little  cloubt  of  the  future  discovery  and  establishment  of 
physiological  influences  or  laws,  of  which  Malthus  was 
not  cognizant;  and  the  tendency  of  which  is  to  counteract 
and  control  those  which  he  perceived  so  clearly ;  but  I 
recognize  that  at  present  these  are  not  ascertained ;  and 
I  must  therefore  confine  myself  to  the  task  of  pointing 
out  a  few  persuasive  indications  of  the  existence  of  these 
undiscovered  laws,  the  direction  in  which  they  may  be 
looked  for,  and  the  vast  expanse  both  of  space  and  time  left 
open  wherein  they  may  operate  and  have  their  perfect  work. 

1.  Some  preliminary  misgiving,  in  the  first  place,  must 
be  aroused  by  noting  that  the  actual  fecundity  of  the  hu¬ 
man  race  has  never  equalled,  and  scarcely  ever  even  dis¬ 
tantly  approached,  its  possible  fecundity ;  and  that  this 
difference  is  observable  when  there  is  neither  vice,  misery, 
nor  moral  restraint  to  account  for  it ;  that  in  the  midst 
of  the  most  ample  supply  of  food,  where  there  need  and 
can  be  no  anxiety  as  to  the  future,  where  parents  are 
healthy,  where  the  climate  is  good,  —  where,  in  a  word, 
every  circumstance  is  as  favorable  as  possible  to  the  un¬ 
checked  multiplication  of  the  species,  where  everybody 
marries,  and  where  marriages  are  as  early  as  is  compatible 
with  vigor,  —  the  population  does  not  increase  nearly  as 
fast  as  theoretically  it  might  do.  The  most  rapid  known 
rate  of  augmentation  appears  to  be  that  mentioned  by 
Humboldt,  in  some  parts  of  Mexico,  where,  judging  from 
the  proportion  of  births  and  deaths,  he  calculated  that,  if 
there  were  no  interfering  circumstances,  the  population 
would  double  itself  in  nineteen  years.  This  was  in  a 
tropical  climate,  where  the  marriages  were  unusually 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


81 


early,  and  the  births  as  numerous  as  one  in  seventeen,  or 
occasionally  one  in  fifteen.  In  the  United  States  and 
Lower  Canada,  which  come  next,  it  is  calculated  that 
when  the  large  immigration  is  subtracted,  the  period  of 
doubling  by  natural  increase  is  twenty-five  years.  But 
both  these  fall  far  short  of  the  possible  rate  of  theoretical 
increase  ;  since,  adopting  data  which  are  actually  reached 
and,  indeed,  exceeded  in  some  instances,  the  population 
of  a  country  can  double  itself  in  less  than  ten  years. 

Again,  the  ordinary  size  of  families  in  England  and 
Wales,  judging  by  a  comparison  of  the  yearly  marriages 
with  the  yearly  births,  is  now  about  4.15  children,  and  we 
may  fairly  assume  that  with  us  no  artificial  means,  of  ab¬ 
stinence  or  otherwise,  are  employed  to  prevent  each  mar¬ 
riage  yielding  its  natural  number  of  offspring.  But  as 
this  mode  of  ascertaining  the  number  of  children  to  a 
marriage  is  only  strictly  correct  when  applied  to  a  sta¬ 
tionary  population,  we  must  add  something  to  the  above 
figures ;  and  there  is,  I  believe,  no  reason  why  we  may 
not  take  Mr.  Malthas’ s  calculation,  and  call  the  number 
4.5.  We  cannot  with  any  accuracy  ascertain  the  number 
of  children  born  to  a  marriage  in  America,  as  statistics 
there  are  so  complicated  by  immigration,  migration,  exten¬ 
sion,  and  other  causes,  but  I  believe  no  one  would  place 
the  average  higher  than  six.  There  is,  therefore,  no  rea¬ 
son  for  believing  that  the  average  in  the  most  favorable 
circumstances  exceeds  this.  But  the  'possible  number  of 
children  to  a  marriage  —  the  natural,  unchecked  number 
under  the  best  conditions  is  far  beyond  this  —  certainly 
fourfold.  The  child-bearing  ages  of  women  extend  over 

4  * 


F 


82 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


nearly  thirty  years,  —  certainly  over  twenty-five,  or  from 
sixteen  to  forty,  inclusive,  on  a  moderate  estimate.  Twen¬ 
ty-five  children  to  each  marriage  is  therefore  no  impossi¬ 
bility;  in  favorable  conditions  we  should  say  no  unlikely 
occurrence.  We  all  of  us  know  individual  cases  in  which 
it  has  been  realized.  In  Italv  such  instances  are  not  very 
unfrequent,  —  even  in  England  they  are  not  unexampled. 
In  Lower  Canada  we  find  they  are  by  no  means  uncommon,* 
—  from  fourteen  to  sixteen  is  a  usual  number.  A  recent 
traveller  there  assured  us  he  had  met  with  one  woman 
who  had  borne  thirty-two  children. 

Yet  how  rarely  —  even  when  food  is  abundant,  health 
unquestionable,  habits  good,  an  entire  absence,  that  is, 
both  of  the  preventive  and  the  positive  check — do  w7e 
see  this  potential  fecundity  even  approached  !  Does  not 
the  contrast  point  to  some  other,  as  yet  occult,  influence, 
wholly  apart  from  any  of  those  enumerated  by  Mr.  Mal- 
thus,  which  operates  as  a  natural  and  unconscious  limi¬ 
tation  on  human  reproduction  ? 

2.  Some  doubt  as  to  the  completeness  of  Malthus’s 
premises,  and  the  consequent  correctness  of  his  conclu¬ 
sions,  appears  to  be  suggested  by  the  fact  that  every  man 
is  able  by  his  own  labor  to  produce  food  f  enough,  not  only 

*  “Social  Science  Transactions,”  1862,  p.  894,  Mr.  Hnrlbert’s 
Paper  on  Canada.  In  Belgium,  perhaps  the  most  fecund  as  well  as 
the  most  densely  peopled  of  old  civilized  states,  the  average  children 
to  a  marriage  (according  to  Quetelet)  is  4.75  in  the  least  prolific,  and 
5.21  in  the  most  prolific  provinces. 

t  In  fact  the  natural  rate  of  increase  of  man’s  food  is  out  of  all 
proportion  greater  than  man’s  own  rate  of  increase.  A  couple  of 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


83 


to  sustain  himself  and  those  naturally  helpless  and  de¬ 
pendent  upon  him,  hut  enough  also  to  exchange  for  the 
shelter  and  clothing  which  are  as  necessary  as  food  to 
the  human  animal ;  and  he  can  do  all  this  and  yet  leave 
himself  ample  leisure  for  other  occupations  or  amuse¬ 
ments.  Without  indorsing  Mr.  Godwin’s  extravagant 
calculation  that  half  an  hour  a  day  devoted  by  every  in¬ 
dividual  in  a  community  to  agricultural  labor  would  suf¬ 
fice  to  raise  an  adequate  amount  of  nutriment,  there  can 
be  no  question  that  a  very  moderate  amount  of  regular 
industry,  whether  applied  to  the  production  of  one  article 
or  of  many,  would  secure  to  man  an  abundant  supply  of 
all  the  necessaries,  and  most  of  the  comforts,  of  life,  —  at 
least  in  all  temperate  or  tropical  climates.  In  the  article 
in  the  Encyclopaedia  already  quoted,  Malthus  declares  that 
as  long  as  good  land  was  attainable,  “  the  rate  at  which 
food  could  be  made  to  increase  would  far  exceed  what  was 
necessary  to  keep  pace  with  the  most  rapid  increase  of 
population  which  the  laws  of  nature  in  relation  to  human 
kind  permit.”  It  was  obvious,  therefore,  since  every  man 
can  produce  much  more  than  he  needs,  and  since,  given 
the  land  and  the  labor,  food  can  be  made  to  increase  in¬ 
comparably  faster  than  population,  and  would  naturally 
do  so,  all  that  is  wanted  to  put  man  at  his  ease  is  a  field 
whereon  to  bestow  his  industry.  It  is  not  that  popula¬ 
tion  has  a  natural  tendency  to  increase  faster  than  food, 
or  as  fast,  but  simply  that  the  surface  of  the  earth  is 

human  beings  multiply  three  or  four  fold  in  the  course  of  thirty 
years.  One  potato  sprout  multiplies  twenty-fold  in  a  single  year  ; 
one  grain  of  wheat  even  two  hundred-fold  in  favoring  circumstances. 


84 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


limited,  and  portions  of  that  surface  not  always  nor  easily 
accessible. 

3.  It  was  pointed  out  by  the  late  Mr.  Senior,  as  another 
very  suggestive  fact,  that,  taking  the  world  as  a  whole,  and 
history  so  far  as  we  are  acquainted  with  it,  food  always 
has  increased  faster  than  population,  in  spite  of  the  alleged 
tendency  of  population  to  increase  faster  than  food.  Fam¬ 
ines,  which  used  to  be  so  frequent  in  earlier  ages  and  in 
thickly  peopled  countries,  are  now  scarcely  ever  heard  of, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  the  average  condition  of  the  mass 
of  the  people  has  on  the  whole  improved,  that  is,  that 
they  have  more  of  the  necessaries  of  life  than  formerly. 
Probably  the  only  cases  in  our  days  of  scarcity  of  food 
amounting  to  actual  famine  are  to  be  found  where  the 
staple  crop  of  a  whole  country  has  been  destroyed  by 
locusts,  as  sometimes  in  Asia ;  or  by  drought,  as  occasion¬ 
ally  in  Hindostan ;  or  by  vegetable  disease,  as  in  the  potato 
rot  of  Ireland.  In  sparsely  peopled  Australia,  famine  has 
often  supervened  ;  in  densely  peopled  Belgium,  never.  “  I 
admit  (says  Mr.  Senior)  the  abstract  power  of  population 
to  increase  so  as  to  press  upon  the  means  of  subsistence. 
I  deny  the  habitual  tendency.  I  believe  the  tendency  to 
be  just  the  reverse.  What  is  the  picture  presented  by  the 
earliest  records  of  those  nations  which  are  now  civilized  ? 
or,  which  is  the  same,  what  is  now  the  state  of  savage 
nations  ?  A  state  of  habitual  poverty  and  occasional 

famine . If  a  single  country  can  be  found  in  which 

there  is  now  less  poverty  than  is  universal  in  a  savage 
state,  it  must  be  true  that  under  the  circumstances  in 
which  that  country  has  been  placed,  the  means  of  subsist- 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


85 


ence  have  a  tendency  to  increase  faster  than  the  popula¬ 
tion.  Now,  this  is  the  case  in  every  civilized  country. 
Even  Ireland,  the  country  most  likely  to  afford  an  instance 
of  what  Mr.  Mill  supposes  to  be  the  natural  course  of 
things,  poor  and  populous  as  she  is,  suffers  less  from  want, 
with  her  eight  millions  of  people/'  than  when  her  only 
inhabitants  were  a  few  septs  of  hunters  and  fishers.  In 
our  early  history,  famines  and  pestilences,  the  consequence 
of  famine,  constantly  recur.  At  present,  though  our 
numbers  are  trebled  or  quadrupled,  they  are  unheard  of. 
Whole  colonies  of  the  first  settlers  in  America  perished 
from  absolute  want.  Their  successors  struggled  long 
against  hardship  and  privation,  but  every  increase  of 
their  numbers  seems  to  have  been  accompanied  or  pre- 
cecled  by  increased  means  of  support. 

“  If  it  be  conceded  that  there  exists  in  the  human  race 
a  tendency  to  rise  from  barbarism  to  civilization,  and  that 
the  means  of  subsistence  are  proportionally  more  abundant 
in  a  civilized  than  in  a  savage  state, —  and  neither  of 
these  propositions  can  be  denied,  —  then  it  must  follow 
that  there  is  a  natural  tendency  in  subsistence  to  increase 
in  a  greater  ratio  than  population.”  (Two  Lectures  deliv¬ 
ered  at  Oxford  by  N.  W.  Senior.  Led.  II.) 

An  interesting  correspondence  between  Mr.  Senior  and 
Mr.  Malthus  followed  the  publication  of  these  lectures, 
and  wras  appended  to  them,  leaving  the  point  of  the  con¬ 
troversy  pretty  much  where  it  originally  stood,  viz.,  that 
while  the  theoretic  'power  of  population  to  increase  faster 
than  food  was  undoubted,  the  practical  fact  was  that  this 

*  This  was  written  in  1829. 


86 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


power  was  scarcely  ever  exercised ;  Mr.  Malthus,  however, 
holding  to  his  former  doctrine  that  the  reasons  of  its  non- 
exercise  were  to  be  found  solely  in  the  severe  and  general 
operation  of  the  preventive  check. 

4.  Another  class  of  facts  which  I  shall  do  no  more  than 
allude  to,  because,  though  often  examined  casually,  they 
have,  as  far  as  I  know,  never  been  thoroughly  sifted  or 
brought  into  a  focus,  points  even  more  distinctly  to  the 
existence  of  some  cause  operating,  under  certain  circum¬ 
stances,  to  limit  human  fertility  even  beyond  what  is 
consistent  with  the  multiplication  or  preservation  of  the 
race,  or  class,  or  type.  I  refer  to  cases  in  which  a  family, 
or  set  of  families,  or  a  whole  variety,  dies  out  where  no 
deficiency  or  difficulty  of  subsistence  can  be  alleged  as 
the  explanation,  and  where,  therefore,  some  other  cause, 
almost  certainly  physiological,  must  be  presupposed. 
Such  is  the  case  of  baronets,  whose  titles  are  perpetually 
lapsing  from  the  failure  of  male  heirs,  —  assuredly  not 
from  abstinence  from  marriage,  nor  from  lack  of  food. 
Such,  again,  is  the  frequent  extinction  of  peerage  families, 
of  whom  plentiful  sustenance  may  at  least  be  predicated.* 
I  am  aware  of  Mr.  Galton’s  ingenious  explanation,  based 
upon  the  fact  of  peers  so  often  marrying  heiresses,  who  of 
course  ex  vi  termini  come  from  comparatively  unfertile 

*  A  similar,  blit  still  more  decided,  process  of  gradual  extinction 
of  rich  and  privileged  families  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  most 
constant  phenomena  in  the  civilized  states  of  the  Ancient  World, — 
in  Italy  and  Greece  at  least.  For  remarkable  examples  and  ample 
proof,  see  Dureau  de  la  Malle,  Economie  'politique  des  Eomains,  I.  p. 
417  et  seq. 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING.  87 

families ;  but  the  explanation  itself  is  a  collateral  con¬ 
firmation  of  the  fact  I  am  pointing  out,  - —  for  whence 
arise  these  many  unfertile  but  rich  families  ?  If  the 
wealthy,  who  have  every  facility  for  prolonging  life,  and 
no  motive  to  abstain  from  marriage,  are  so  often  barren 
and  liable  to  see  their  families  die  out  or  dwindle  down 
to  one  heiress,  does  not  the  circumstance  point  to  the 
operation  of  some  influence  other  than  Malthus’s  “  pres¬ 
sure  on  subsistence,”  almost  antagonistic  to  it,  and  espe¬ 
cially  potent  in  the  most  civilized  and  comfortable  forms  of 
life  ?  I  know  that  other  less  occult  causes  of  the  phenom¬ 
ena  in  question  have  been  suggested  ;  but  they  are  not 
such  as  can  be  discussed  here,  nor  I  believe  could  they  do 
anything  beyond  slightly  mitigating  the  force  of  my  con¬ 
clusion.  If  from  classes  we  turn  to  races  and  nations,  his¬ 
tory  affords  examples  enough  of  once  populous  countries 
now  inhabited  by  comparatively  scanty  numbers  where 
unwholesomeness  and  lack  of  food  (or  food-producing  soil) 
will  do  little  to  account  for  the  decline.*  And  if,  instead 

*  See  Dureau  de  la  Malle,  liv.  ii.  ch.  13.  Also  Gibbon,  I.  ch.  2. 
Merivale’s  “  Roman  Empire,”  IV.  433,  VII.  602,  604,  608.  The  pro¬ 
cess  of  depopulation  in  many  provinces  of  the  Roman  dominions,  since 
the  time  of  the  Antonines,  has  been  excessive,  and  unaccountable  on 

y 

any  of  Malthus’s  hypotheses.  We  may  instance  especially  the  north 
coast  of  Africa,  so  populous  in  the  palmy  days  of  Rome,  and  Asia 
Minor  and  Syria,  —  to  say  nothing  of  Turkish  countries  farther  east 
still.  According  to  Merivale,  Asia  Minor  and  Syria  once  supported 
27,000,000  of  people.  According  to  M’Culloch  they  do  not  now  con¬ 
tain  more  than  one  fourth  of  those  numbers.  Yet  we  do  not  find  that 
they  have  become  either  unhealthy  or  unfertile.  Several  analogous 
indications  scattered  through  history  point  to  the  depression  of  spirits 


88 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


of  the  annals  of  the  past,  we  read  the  living  history  that 
is  before  our  eyes,  we  find  everywhere  savage  races  dying 
out  with  the  greatest  rapidity,  —  and  dying  out  as  much 
from  paucity  of  births  (diminished  fecundity,  that  is)  as 
from  increase  of  deaths,  —  even  where  lack  of  food,  or 
means  of  procuring  it,  can  scarcely  be  put  forward  as  the 
reason  or  an  adequate  one  (as  in  the  instance  of  the  Maories 
and  the  Polynesians) ;  and  where,  after  full  allowance  has 
been  made  for  wars,  diseases,  and  vices,  some  unexplained 
residuum  is  left,  which  points  to  a  hidden  influence,  phys¬ 
iological  no  doubt,  but  belonging  to  the  nervous  and  not 
to  the  nutritive  system.  Again,  nowhere  in  the  United 
States,  one  would  suppose,  can  pressure  of  population  on 
means  of  subsistence  be  alleged  as  the  true  acting  cause 
of  non-increase  of  numbers  or  failing  fecundity ;  yet  it  is 
asserted  confidently  (and  there  seems  every  reason  to  be¬ 
lieve  with  accuracy)  that  the  native-born  citizens  of  some 
of  the  New  England  States  cannot  —  at  all  events  do  not 
—  keep  up  their  numbers.* 

When  astronomers  found  the  calculable  influence  of 

or  of  nervous  energy,  which  seems  to  accompany  the  decline  of 
Nations  and  the  decay  of  Races,  as  exercising  a  singularly  sterilizing 
influence  on  mankind. 

The  same  wholesale  dying  out  of  old  families  is  observable,  I 
believe,  in  other  countries  at  the  present  time.  M.  cle  Tocqueville 
told  me  of  one  district  in  France  where  two  hundred  families  had 
become  extinct,  as  far  as  the  direct  line  was  concerned,  in  about  a 
century,  from  a  variety  of  causes. 

*  See  especially  different  monographs  by  Dr.  Storer,  addressed,  in 
the  first  instance,  to  members  of  his  own  profession,  and,  I  believe, 
confirmed  by  several  of  them. 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


89 


the  law  of  gravitation  on  the  motions  of  the  planets 
disturbed  and  pro  tanto  counteracted  by  some  unex¬ 
plained  or  undiscovered  agency,  they  at  once  confidently 
inferred  the  existence  of  an  unknown  body  at  an  un¬ 
guessed  distance  but  in  a  specified  direction.  They 
believed  in  Neptune  long  before  they  found  him.  Why 
should  not  we  do  in  physiology  what  they  did  in 
pdiysics  ?  * 

5.  Lastly.  The  repellent  character  of  Malthus’s  con¬ 
clusion  has  been  usually  regarded  as  in  itself  a  ground 
for  suspecting  its  truth.  Nor  do  I  think  this  ground, 
though  confessedly  open  to  question,  is  peremptorily  to 
be  put  aside  as  unphilosophical.  It  is  unphilosophical 
to  reject  indisputable  and  proved  conclusions  because 
we  do  not  like  them,  because  they  disturb  our  serenity, 
shatter  our  hopes,  or  run  counter  to  our  prejudices.  It 
is  not  unphilosophical  to  doubt  the  accuracy  or  com¬ 
pleteness  of  any  course  of  reasoning  which  has  brought 
us  to  results  at  variance  with  other  results  which  appear 
at  least  equally  certain,  and  which  have  been  reached  by 
similar  processes  of  thought.  Nay,  more,  it  would  be 
unwise  not  to  doubt  in  such  cases,  not  to  suspend  our 
judgment,  not  to  reconsider  our  inferences  and  our  data. 
There  are  certain  truths  which  the  general  sense  of  man¬ 
kind  has  adopted  and  clings  to  as  undeniable,  partly 
from  instinctive  conviction,  partly  from  overpowering 
proof,  partly  from  religious  teaching,  —  such  as  the  wis- 

*  Consult  Doubleday’s  “  True  Law  of  Population,”  pp.  36,  et 
seq.,  also  ch.  x.,  xi.  And  more  especially  Darwin’s  “Animals  and 
Plants  under  Domestication,”  II.  148-171. 


90 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


dom,  power,  and  ultimate,  essential,  universal  goodness 
of  God.  It  is  right  and  wise  to  doubt  provisionally  — 
not  of  course  to  deny  —  any  doctrine  which  contradicts 
or  seems  to  contradict  these  truths,  and  which  has  been 
arrived  at  by  steps  of  logic.  And  it  is  so  for  this  simple 
reason,  —  that,  though  we  may  feel  confident  of  the  just¬ 
ness  of  our  inferences,  if  scientifically  drawn  by  cautious 
and  well-trained  intellects,  and  sanctioned  after  due  ex¬ 
amination  by  other  qualified  minds,  yet  we  can  scarcely 
ever  feel  similar  confidence  as  to  the  perfect  accuracy 
and  completeness  of  our  premises.  Unless  we  can  be  cer¬ 
tain  that  we  know  everything  bearing  upon  the  subject, 
that  we  are  in  possession  of  every  datum  necessary  for 
framing  our  conclusions,  —  a  certainty  which  is  very 
seldom  attainable,  —  it  may  well  be  that  there  is  some¬ 
thing  we  do  not  know,  some  facts  wdiich  have  escaped 
our  observation  or  research,  which,  if  taken  into  account, 
would  have  materially  modified  or  altogether  overthrown 
our  conclusions.  Logic  fails  far  oftener  from  defective 
data  than  from  careless  processes.  Not  only  therefore  is 
doubt  justified  by  sound  philosophy,  where  improbable 
doctrines  are  sought  to  be  thrust  upon  us  by  even  the 
most  close  and  cogent  steps  of  ratiocination,  but  the  doc¬ 
trines  may  be  of  such  a  character,  may  be  so  irreconcil¬ 
able  with  beliefs  that  have  become  axiomatic,  may  so 
revolt  our  most  carefully  wrought-out  convictions,  that 
we  should  be  warranted  —  not  indeed  in  rejecting  them 
if  positively  proved,  but  —  in  declaring  that  there  must 
be  some  deficiency  in  the  premises,  some  omitted  or  un¬ 
discovered  data,  which  the  future  progress  of  knowledge 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


91 


would  bring  to  light,  and  which,  when  introduced  into 
the  question,  would  wholly  change  its  present  aspect. 
Now  Malthus’s  theory  of  population  was  precisely  one 
of  those  doctrines,  and  therefore  justly  led  numbers  who 
could  find  no  flaw  in  his  reasoning,  to  feel  satisfied  that 
there  must  be  some  error  or  hiatus  in  the  bases  on  which 
it  was  grounded  ;  and  who,  in  consequence,  while  unable 
to  refute  his  conclusions,  were  equally  unable  to  adopt 
them. 

Malthus  himself  felt  this  so  strongly,  that  he  took 
much  pains  to  argue  that  his  theory  was  in  no  way 
irreconcilable  with  the  goodness  of  God,  but  on  the 
contrary  harmonized  «with  what  we  know  of  His  general 
dealings  with  mankind.  While  admitting  that  it  was 
incompatible  with  the  happiness,  if  not  the  virtue,  of 
the  great  mass  of  mankind,  that  it  called  upon  them  to 
do  violence  to  their  strongest  instincts  and  to  some  of 
their  best  and  most  natural  sentiments,  and  opened  a 
terrible  vista  of  probable  wretchedness  for  the  future  of 
the  race,  he  argued  that  this  world  was  designed  to  be  a 
state  of  probation,  not  of  enjoyment,  —  that  man  was 
called  upon  to  keep  all  his  appetites  in  check,  and  was 
warned  and  punished  by  the  laws  of  nature  if  he  did 
not,  —  and  that  only  by  the  exercise  of  such  check  could 
he  ever  advance  in  civilization  or  in  moral  dignity. 
The  allegations  may  be  quite  irrefragable,  the  plea  has  no 
doubt  a  certain  force,  but  it  is  impossible  not  to  see  and 
feel  that  it  does  not  really  meet  the  objection  it  was 
intended  to  neutralize.  For,  in  the  first  place,  though 
Providence  may  have  designed  this  world  to  be  a  state  of 


92 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


probation,  he  assuredly  did  not  design  it  to  be  a  state  of 
misery ;  and  a  state  of  misery,  or  at  least  of  distress,  to 
the  majority  it  must  be,  as  Malthus  repeatedly  concedes, 
if  his  view  of  the  laws  of  nature  be  correct  and  com- 

4 

plete.  In  the  next  place,  though  man  is  bound,  both 
as  a  condition  of  progress  and  under  pain  of  suffering, 
to  control  his  propensities  and  to  moderate'  his  appetites 
and  desires,  he  is  not  bound  to  deny  them.  If  he  is  idle 
and  prefers  inordinate  rest  to  reasonable  work,  nature 
says  that  he  shall  starve  or  live  miserably ;  but  nature 
never  says  that  he  shall  not  sleep  or  rest  at  all,  or  not 
during  the  best  years  of  his  life,  or  the  dark  hours  of 
night.  If  he  eats  or  drinks  immoderately,  nature  pun¬ 
ishes  him  with  dyspepsia  and  disease ;  but  nature  never 
forbids  him  to  eat  when  he  is  hungry,  and  to  drink  when 
he  is  thirsty,  provided  he  does  both  with  discretion. 
Indeed  she  punishes  him  equally  if  he  abstains  as  if  he 
exceeds,  if  he  eats  too  little,  or  not  at  all,  as  if  he  eats 
too  much.  In  the  same  w7ay,  if  he  indulges  to  excess 
in  the  pleasures  connected  with  reproduction,  nature  pun¬ 
ishes  him  with  premature  exhaustion,  with  appropriate 
maladies,  with  moral  enervation  and  corruption ;  but  she 
does  not  punish  the  rational  and  legitimate  enjoyments 
of  love.  On  the  contrary,  she  does  punish  enforced  and 
total  abstinence,  occasionally  in  the  one  sex,  often,  if  not 
habitually,  in  the  other,  by  nervous  disturbance  and  suf¬ 
fering,  and  by  functional  disorder. 

Now,  if  Malthus’s  doctrine  be  correct,  the  great  major¬ 
ity  of  men  and  women,  if  they  are  to  escape  a  condition 
of  perpetual  misery  and  want,  must  not  only  keep  within 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


93 


moderate  bounds  the  strongest  propensity  of  their  nature, 
but  must  suppress  and  deny  it  altogether,  —  always  for 
long  and  craving  years,  often,  and  in  the  case  of  numbers, 
for  the  whole  of  life.  Observe,  too,  that  the  desire  in 
question  is  the  especial  one  of  all  our  animal  wants 
which  is  redeemed  from  animalism  by  being  blended 
with  our  strongest  and  least  selfish  affections,  which  is 
ennobled  by  its  associations  in  a  way  in  which  the  appe¬ 
tites  of  eating  and  drinking  and  sleeping  can  never  be 
ennobled,  —  in  a  degree  to  which  the  pleasures  of  the 
eye  and  ear  can  be  ennobled  only  by  assiduous  and  lofty 
culture.  Yet  this  longing  —  which  lies  at  the  root  of 
life,  which  enters  largely  into  the  elements  of  chivalry, 
which  nature  has  inextricably  intertwisted  with  the  holy 
joys  of  maternity  —  is  singled  out  as  the  one,  and  the 
only  one,  which  must  be  smothered,  if  we  would  live  in 
plenty  or  in  peace.  Do  the  laws  of  nature  say  this  ?  If 
so,  they  speak  in  a  language  which  is  wholly  exceptional, 
and  which  here,  and  here  only,  has  to  be  interpreted  in  a 
“  non-natural  ”  sense.  Is  there  any  other  instance  in 
which  Nature  says  in  the  most  distinct  and  imperious 
language,  “  Thou  shalt  do  this  ”  ?  —  and  also  in  language 
equally  imperious,  if  not  equally  distinct,  “  If  thou  dost, 
thou  shalt  be  punished  as  in  other  cases  those  only  are 
punished  who  transgress  my  laws  ”  ?  I  know  of  no  anal¬ 
ogous  instance.* 

*  Two  antagonistic  considerations  should  be  noticed  here.  It  has 
been  suggested  that  the  paramount  and  despotic  strength  which  the 
instinct  in  question  has  now  assumed  is  not  natural ,  but  excessive  ; 
the  excess  being  due  to  ages  of  unrestrained  indulgence  added  to 


94 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


The  various  considerations  suggested  above  appear  to 
point  irresistibly  to  the  conclusion  —  though  to  justify  it, 
or  even  fully  to  develop  it,  would  require  a  separate  trea¬ 
tise.  and  not  a  mere  incidental  chapter  like  the  present 
—  that  Malthus’s  logic,  though  so  keen  and  cogent,  was 
at  fault,  because  based  on  imperfect  and  insufficient 
premises ;  that  in  addition  to  the  positive  and  pre¬ 
ventive  checks  to  over-population  notified  by  him,  there 
exist  physiological  checks  which  escaped  his  search,  and 
which  will  prove  adequate  for  the  work  they  have  to  clo  ; 
that  if  we  were  wise  and  virtuous,  the  positive  check 
would  entirely  disappear  (with  the  exception  of  death,  in 
the  fulness  of  time),  and  the  prudential  check  be  only 
called  upon  to  operate  to  that  degree  which  is  needed  to 
elevate  and  purify  and  regulate  the  animal  instinct,  and 
which  is  quite  reconcilable  with  and  conducive  to  vir- 

other  bad  influences  in  the  present.  Probably  this  is  so  ;  to  a  large 
extent  I  have  no  doubt  it  is,  and  this  is  one  reason  why  I  venture 
to  entertain  better  hopes  for  the  future.  But  it  must  be  admitted 
without  doubt,  I  fancy,  that  at  all  events  the  instinct  in  man  is 
perennial,  not  periodic  ;  and  that  on  Malthus’s  theory  the  utmost 
anticipatable  moderation  in  its  exercise  would  virtually  be  just  as 
certain  to  result  in  over-population  and  discomforting  pressure  on 
subsistence,  as  its  present  pampered  and  abnormal  development. 

Mr.  Darwin’s  views  and  researches,  again,  remind  us  that  the 
universal  law  of  all  vegetable  and  animal  life  is  the  struggle  for 
subsistence,  and  that  the  conclusion  we  deprecate  and  deem  im¬ 
probable  is  merely  the  natural  inference  that  man  is  no  exception 
to  the  permanent  and  general  rule.  Certainly  this  is  undeniable  ; 
but  surely  the  marvellous  'primacy  of  man,  cerebrally,  and  therefore 
mentally,  renders  it  at  least  reasonable  to  seek  to  vindicate  for  him 
an  exceptional  destiny,  notwithstanding  a  common  orb  in. 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


95 


tue,  happiness,  and  health ;  —  in  fine,  that  Providence 
will  he  vindicated  from  our  premature  misgivings  when 
we  discover  that  there  exist  natural  laws,  whose  operation 
is  to  modify  and  diminish  human  fecundity  in  proportion 
as  mankind  advances  in  real  civilization ,  in  moral  and 
intellectual  development ;  and  that  these  laws  will  (un¬ 
less  we  thwart  them)  have  ample  time  and  space  wherein 
to  produce  their  effect,  long  before  that  ultimate  crisis 
shall  arrive  which  the  Malthusian  theory  taught  us  so  to 
dread.  I  briefly  touch  upon  this  point  first. 

If  any  one  island  of  limited  extent  and  already  mod¬ 
erately  peopled,  Great  Britain,  for  example,  were  to  be 
effectually  isolated  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  either  by 
natural  causes  or  by  human  laws,  it  is  obvious  that,  in 
a  comparatively  short  time  —  the  reproductive  faculty 
remaining  “  excessive,”  as  it  is  now,  and  as  it  probably 
would  continue  to  be  —  population  would  press  upon  the 
means  of  subsistence,  and  either  increased  mortality,  or 
increased  privation  and  distress  from  the  necessity  of  an 
augmented  severity  in  the  preventive  check,  must  be  the 
result.  But  no  country  is  thus  completely  isolated,  and 
no  near  approach  to  such  isolation  can  arise,  except  from 
human  folly,  indolence,  or  ignorance.  Such  isolation  and 
absolute  impossibility  of  expansion  as  would  render  the 
Malthusian  theory  self-evident  and  indisputably  true, 
would  be  traceable,  not,  as  he  alleges,  to  the  laws  of 
nature,  but  to  man’s  interference  with  those  laws. 

Again,  since  a  man  can  produce  from  the  soil  a  great 
deal  more  than  is  needed  for  his  own  subsistence,  and 
since,  in  consequence,  food  will  and  may  increase  faster 


96 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


than  population,  —  granted  only  an  unlimited  supply  of 
available  land ,  —  it  is  obvious  that  there  can  be  no 
necessary  pressure  on  the  means  of  subsistence,  until  all 
the  available  surface  of  the  globe  is  taken  up  and  fully 
cultivated.  Any  pressure  that  occurs  before  that  extreme 
point  is  reached,  it  is  clear,  can  only  be  caused  by  imped¬ 
iments  to  expansion  ;  and  all  these  impediments  are  to 
civilized  man  artificial,  not  natural,  —  of  human,  not  of 
Providential  origin.  It  is  obvious  that  a  single  family 
or  a  single  tribe,  surrounded  by  an  unlimited  territory  of 
uninhabited  and  productive  soil,  might  go  on  multiplying 
indefinitely  and  without  restraint,  on  the  sole  condition 
of  spreading  as  they  multiplied  ;  and  that,  so  long  as  they 
fulfilled  this  condition,  they  would  never  have  an  idea 
of  what  pressure  of  population  on  subsistence  meant, 
till  they  had  reached  the  bounds  and  exhausted  the 
resources  of  the  habitable  earth. 

Now  what  are  the  practicable  impediments  to  this  grad¬ 
ual  extension  of  man  over  the  earth,  analyzed  and  traced 
back  to  their  source  ?  Why  do  men  not  thus  spread  as 
they  multiply  ?  Why  have  they  not  always  done  so  ? 
That  they  have  a  natural  tendency  to  do  so  we  know. 
It  is  the  dictate  of  nature  and  of  common-sense  to  take 
in  a  fresh  field  from  the  outlying  waste,  or  to  extend 
their  forays  over  a  larger  hunting-ground,  as  children 
grow  -up  and  marry,  and  as  more  mouths  have  to  be  fed. 
It  has  been  the  practice  of  mankind  to  act  thus  in  all 
times  and  in  some  form,  so  far  as  history  can  reach  back. 
There  are  two  ways  in  which  men  may  spread  :  they  may 
either  actually  disperse  and  settle  on  other  lands,  or  they 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


97 


may  remain  at  home  and  exchange  the  products  of  their 
industry  for  the  products  of  those  other  lands.  The  one 
is  emigration,  the  other  is  manufacture  and  commerce. 
The  process  by  which  the  earth  has  been  peopled  has 
been  usually  a  mixture  of  the  two,  and  for  the  purpose 
of  our  argument  it  is  immaterial  which  is  followed,  or  in 
what  manner  the  two  are  blended.  People  who  multiply 
and  live  in  plenty  bring  new  land  into  cultivation,  and 
virtually  spread  themselves,  whether  they  cultivate  that 
new  land  with  their  own  hands,  or  through  the  instru¬ 
mentality  of  others  whom  they  employ  and  pay. 

The  impediments  to  the  spread  of  man  over  the  globe 
are  either  natural  or  artificial,  physical  or  moral.  The 
physical  ones,  properly  regarded,  will  be  seen  to  be,  and 
to  have  usually  been,  nearly  inoperative.  They  are  cli¬ 
mate,  sea,  and  distance.  As  far  as  distance  is  concerned, 
this  is  practically  an  impediment  chiefly  in  the  case  of 
too  dense  populations  situated  in  the  interior  of  Conti¬ 
nents  and  Countries,  and  hemmed  in  and  kept  at  a  dis¬ 
tance  from  available  spare  land  by  surrounding  numbers. 
Locomotion,  no  doubt,  is  difficult  and  costly  to  the  poor ; 
but  in  civilized  states  neither  the  difficulty  nor  the  cost 
are  insuperable.  In  the  beginning,  of  course,  a  commu¬ 
nity  spreads  from  the  outside  and  gradually,  and  as  it 
spreads,  and  as  civilization  increases  with  numbers  and 
dispersion,  roads  are  made,  and  means  of  communication 
are  opened  up  in  all  directions.  Even  mountains  and 
rivers  are  mere  difficulties  to  be  overcome,  not  obstacles 
to  prevent.  Sea,  as  we  know,  operated  to  check  expan¬ 
sion  only  in  the  earliest  times,  in  a  very  slight  degree, 

5 


Q 


98 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  in  rare  and  isolated  spots,  such  as  some  of  the  re¬ 
moter  Polynesian  islands.  To  civilized  man  it  is  a  pre¬ 
pared  highway,  a  channel  of  communication,  not  a  barrier 
to  migration.  Climate,  where,  as  in  all  natural  cases,  the 
expansion  of  the  community  is  gradual,  merely  directs 
the  course  of  population,  and  does  not  check  it.  Man 
accommodates  himself  to  climate  and  provides  against  its 
rigors  as  long  as  it  yields  him  a  fair  recompense  for  his 
labor.  When  it  ceases  to  do  this,  if  he  lives  according 
to  nature,  he  turns  elsewhere,  and  virtually  the  limits  of 
the  habitable  world,  or  at  least  of  available  land,  have 
been  reached  in  that  direction. 

The  real  impediments  to  expansion  —  the  reasons  why 
man  has  not  spread  freely  as  he  multiplied  —  have  all 
been  of  a  different  order,  and  have  proceeded  from  him¬ 
self  alone.  The  first  has  been  his  indolence.  He  was  too 
lazy  or  unenterprising  to  go  far  afield  for  his  food  ;  he 
preferred  to  remain  on  the  land  where  he  was  born ;  he 
chose  to  be  satisfied  with  scanty  food  at  home  rather  than 
seek  plenty  a  few  miles  away ;  he  was  willing  even  in 
barbarous  times  to  fight  with  his  brethren  for  subsistence, 
or  to  abstain  from  marriage,  or  to  let  his  children  die 
from  insufficient  nutriment,  often  indeed  to  kill  them, 
rather  than  rouse  himself  to  the  exertion  of  seeking 
abundance  in  a  new  home.  This  indisposition  to  spread 
operates  everywhere  and  always  in  some  measure  and 
in  some  form.  With  some  it  is  ignorance  of  what  new 
fields  offer  them,  and  how  easily  they  can  be  reached,  — 
as  with  the  Dorsetshire  peasants.  With  others  it  is  mere 
“  concentrativeness,”  —  a  tendency  to  the  maladie  du 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


99 


pays,  —  as  with  the  French  and  some  Celtic  nations. 
But  in  all  cases,  so  long  as  the  land  is  there,  and  the 
means  of  reaching  it  exists,  the  impediment  is  human ; 
and  man  has  no  right  to  speak  of  “  pressure  of  popula¬ 
tion  on  subsistence,”  and  to  reproach  Providence  in  his 
heart. 

The  second  impediment  is  meeting  with  hostile  nations 
who  compress  each  other  and  forbid  mutual  expansion. 
They  may  not  be  to  blame  ;  for  as  long  as  boundless, 
unoccupied  lands  exist,  each  tribe  may  be  entitled  to  say 
to  every  other,  “  Go  and  expand  elsewhere,  and  leave  us 
alone.”  But  this  impediment,  like  the  other,  is  to  be 
surmounted  by  sense  and  energy,  and  comes  not  from 
God,  but  from  man. 

A  third  set  of  obstacles  is  often  interposed  by  human 
laws.  Eestrictions  on  migration  and  restrictions  on  com¬ 
mercial  interchange  are  such  obstacles.  The  old  law  of 
settlement  which  forbade  the  Buckinghamshire  laborer, 
starving  on  seven  shillings  a  week,  to  migrate  to  Lan¬ 
cashire  where  he  might  earn  twelve  shillings,  or  which 
discouraged  his  doing  so,  and  the  old  corn  laws,  and  other 
analogous  fiscal  enactments,  which  debarred  Englishmen 

a» 

from  the  free  use  of  the  rich  lands  of  the  Mississippi, 

* 

are  specimens  in  point.  No  one  can  call  obstacles  of  this 
sort  natural. 

It  remains  plain,  therefore,  that  even  granting  the 
premises  of  Malthus  to  be  complete,  and  his  reasoning 
irrefragable,  there  can  be  no  necessary  insufficiency  of 
food,  or  pressure  of  population  on  subsistence,  or  indispen¬ 
sable  demand  for  the  preventive  check,  till  the  whole  earth 


100 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


is  peopled  up  to  the  limits  of  its  productive  powers,  or  till 
all  available  land  is  brought  into  cultivation ;  and  that 
any  pressure  of  population  on  subsistence,  and  consequent 
misery  which  may  arise  previous  to  that  distant  time,  is 
traceable  solely  to  human  agency  or  human  sliort-comings. 
Since,  if  men  were  wise  and  well-trained  enough  to  know 
their  interests,  and  to  follow  them  ;  to  see  their  duty,  and 
to  do  it ;  if  they  knew  what  boundless  fertile  lands  lie 
around  them,  and  within  reach;  if  they  were  energetic 
enough  to  make  the  necessary  efforts  to  reach  them,  and 
to  assist  their  less  capable  brethren  to  do  so,  and  to  do 
this  in  time ;  if  all  laws  directly  or  indirectly  interfering 
with  free  expansion  and  free  intercourse  were  repealed, 
and  their  lingering  consequences  neutralized ;  if,  in  a 
word,  there  were  only  among  us  thorough  freedom,  thor¬ 
ough  sense,  and  a  reasonable  amount  of  goodness,  man¬ 
kind  might  multiply  unchecked,  if  only  they  would  dis¬ 
perse  unchecked.*  And  that  pressure  of  population  on 
the  means  of  subsistence,  with  all  the  misery  it  involves, 
which  Malthus  held  to  be  not  only  ultimately,  but  perpet¬ 
ually  inevitable,  is  —  at  least  in  its  severer  form  —  mainly 
gratuitous  and  nearly  always  premature,  and  under  wTise 
regulations  ought  never  to  be  encountered  till  that  future 
day,  of  whose  distance  from  our  era  the  following  concise 

*  J.  S.  Mill  dwells  urgently  on  the  necessity  of  workmen  limit¬ 
ing  their  numbers,  if  they  wish  their  wages  to  increase  and  their 
condition  to  improve.  I  wish  to  show  that  the  object  will  be  as 
effectually  gained  by  dispersion  as  by  limitation.  It  is  not  multipli¬ 
cation,  but  multiplication  on  a  restricted  field,  on  a  given  area,  that 
lowers  wages  and  brings  privation. 


101 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


summary  of  a  number  of  carefully  collected  facts  will 
give  some  idea. 

Not  to  interrupt  the  argument,  I  give  the  details  of 
these  data  and  calculations  in  the  appendix.  They  de¬ 
monstrate  that  even  the  most  densely  populated  countries 
in  Europe  are  probably  not  peopled  up  to  the  full  num¬ 
bers  they  might  -comfortably  maintain ;  that  many  of 
them  fall  vastly  short  of  the  maximum  actually  reached 
by  others  not  more  favored  by  nature ;  and  that  as  a 
whole  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  European 
continent  could  support  three  or  four  times  its  present 
numbers.  They  show  that  a  similar  conclusion  may  he 
adopted  with  almost  equal  certainty  in  reference  to  a 
great  part  of  Asia,  and  perhaps  the  whole  of  Africa  ;  that 
probably  in  Africa,  and  certainly  in  the  two  Americas, 
there  are  vast  tracts  of  fertile  land,  with  fair,  if  not 
splendid  climates,  which  are  scarcely  inhabited  at  all,  and 
others  which  contain  a  mere  sprinkling  of  human  beings ; 
and  that  in  Australasia  the  case  is  even  stronger.  In 
fine,  while  Belgium  and  Lombardy,  which  are  the  best 
peopled  districts  in  Europe,  contain  about  400  souls  to 
the  square  mile,  Paraguay  contains  only  4,  Brazil  only  3, 
and  the  Argentine  Bepublic  only  1.  From  the  aggregate 
of  these  facts  we  are  warranted  in  concluding  that  an 
indefinite  number  of  generations  and  long  periods  of 
time  must  elapse  before  the  world  can  be  fully  peopled ; 
that  before  that  consummation  shall  he  reached  we  have 
cycles  of  years  to  traverse,  ample  to  afford  space  for  all 
the  influences  which  civilization  may  develop  to  operate 
to  their  uttermost  extent. 


102 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


But  this  is  not  all.  Hot  only  are  few  countries  in  the 
world  adequately  peopled,  but  none  even  of  the  most 
peopled  countries  are  adequately  cultivated.  England 
has  the  best  tilled  soil  in  the  world,  though  by  no  means 
the  best  climate ;  yet  in  England  the  average  produce  of 
the  soil  is  not  half  —  perhaps  not  a  third  —  what  it  might 
be,  and  what  in  many  districts  it  actually  is.  But  the 
average  yield  of  France,  usually  regarded  as  a  very  pro¬ 
ductive  country,  is  only  half  that  of  England ;  nay,  the 
average  yield  of  the  splendid  grain-growing  provinces  in 
America,  which  ought  greatly  to  exceed  that  of  England, 
falls  short  of  it  by  one  half.  Without  bringing  a  single 
additional  acre  under  the  plough,  the  production  of  the 
world,  by  decent  cultivation,  might  be  easily  trebled  or 
quadrupled.  In  addition  to  this  hopeful  prospect,  we  see 
ample  ground  for  expanding  still  further  our  conception 
of  the  amount  of  human  life  that  might  be  maintained 
in  comfort  on  the  earth’s  surface,  in  the  wasted  or  neg¬ 
lected  riches  of  the  sea,  in  the  utilization  of  lands  now 
devoted  to  the  production  of  needless  or  noxious  super¬ 
fluities,  in  the  more  skilful  extraction  from  the  materials 
of  our  food  of  the  real  nutriment  they  contain,  and  in 
the  transfer  of  much  land  from  pasture  to  cereals,  and  in 
other  economies  too  numerous  to  mention. 

The  above  considerations  prove  that  the  world  is  in  no 
danger  of  being  over-peopled  just  at  present,  whatever 
local  congestion  may  exist ;  that  centuries  must  elapse  be¬ 
fore  population  really  presses,  or,  at  least,  need  to  press 
severely  on  the  means  of  subsistence ;  and  that  civiliza¬ 
tion  will  have  time  enough  to  do  its  work,  to  perfect  its 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


103 


resources,  and  to  bring  all  lands  and  all  mankind  under 
its  modifying  influences.  Now,  my  conviction  is,  that 
there  are  certain  influences,  more  or  less  occult,  attendant 
on  civilization,  and  which  may  be  made  to  attend  it  yet 
more  surely,  universally,  and  promptly  than  hitherto,  — 
which  operate  insensibly  to  check  fecundity  and  reduce 
the  rate  of  increase,  so  that  possibly  the  danger  ultimately 
to  be  apprehended  may  be  the  very  reverse  of  that  which 
Malthus  dreaded  ;  that,  in  fact,  when  we  have  reached  that 
point  of  universal  plenty  and  universal  cultivation  to 
which  human  progress  ought  to  bring  us,  the  race  will 
multiply  too  slowly  rather  than  too  fast.  One  such  influ¬ 
ence  may  be  specified  with  considerable  confidence,  — 
namely,  the  tendency  of  cerebral  development  to 

LESSEN  FECUNDITY.* 

*  It  was  at  one  time  fancied  that  a  second  physiological  law  might 
be  made  good,  as  operating  in  the  same  direction.  Mr.  Doubleday 
and  others,  arguing  from  the  facts  that  scanty  nutriment  often  stim¬ 
ulated  reproduction,  as  rich  soils  and  abundant  food  in  many  cases 
checked  it,  drew  the  conclusion  that  merely  ample  and  sufficient 
nourishment  (such  as  the  progress  of  civilization  might  he  expected 
to  bring  to  all  men)  would  progressively  lower  the  average  fecundity 
of  the  race.  But  I  believe  further  investigation  has  not  favored  this 
theory,  at  least  certainly  not  in  the  broad  extent  and  positive  form 
in  which  it  was  first  stated  by  Mr.  Doubleday.  But  loose  as  are  both 
his  arguments  and  statements,  I  think  it  is  scarcely  possible  not  to 
recognize  some  residuum  of  suggestive  truth,  at  least  in  several  of 
them  ;  and  Mr.  Spencer’s  antagonistic  theory  appears  to  be  laid  down 
in  too  unmitigated  a  form.  My  own  strong  opinion  is,  that  other 
physiological  causes  of  anti-fecund  tendency  are  yet  to  be  discovered  ; 
and  that  races,  nations,  and  families  would  not  so  often  die  out,  were 
it  not  so.  It  is  impossible  to  read  the  Eighteenth  Chapter  of  Mr. 


104 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


To  dwell  on  the  various  evidences  which  might  be  ad¬ 
duced  to  establish  the  existence  of  this  tendency  would 
obviously  be  out  of  place  in  a  work  designed  for  general 
perusal,  and  the  subject  could  only  be  adequately  discussed 
in  a  physiological  treatise.  I  shall,  therefore,  not  attempt 
any  proof  or  elucidation  here.  Meantime  it  is  a  great 
satisfaction  to  me  to  find,  since  these  pages  were  written 
(now  some  years  ago),  that  one  of  our  most  eminent  and 
profound  thinkers,  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  has  arrived  at 
almost  an  identical  conclusion,  though  starting  from  a 
different  stand -point,  pursuing  a  far  more  systematic  and 
strictly  scientific  train  of  reasoning,  and  working  on  a  vast 
induction  of  facts  drawn  from  all  forms  of  organic  life. 
He  not  only  concludes,  as  I  do,  that  fecundity  diminishes 
with  that  intellectual  and  moral  development  of  the  race 

Darwin’s  great  work  on  Domestication  without  recognizing  how  far 
we  yet  are  from  having  got  to  the  bottom  of  this  question,  and  with¬ 
out  receiving  a  strong  conviction  of  the  existence  of  a  variety  of 
hidden  causes  affecting  the  fertility  of  animals,  especially  when  in 
what  we  may  term,  for  them,  a  state  of  civilization.  The  modus 
operandi  of  some  of  these  influences  may  be  conjectured  ;  others 
appear  at  present  quite  inexplicable  ;  but  all  confirming  Mr.  Dar¬ 
win’s  conclusion  as  “  to  the  remarkable  and  specific  power  which 
changed  conditions  of  life  possess  of  acting  repressively  on  the  re¬ 
productive  system.”  The  non -breeding  of  tamed  Indian  elephants 
—  though  living  in  their  native  country  and  climate,  well  treated, 
allowed  considerable  freedom,  amply  supplied  with  food,  and  in  per¬ 
fect  health  —  seems  to  me  a  singularly  suggestive  phenomenon.  It 
looks  almost  analogous  to  the  cases  of  tribes  and  races,  which  have 
died  or  are  dying  out  in  the  midst  of  plenty,  under  the  mysterious 
influence  of  some  mental  condition  like  depression  of  spirits,  despond¬ 
ency,  restraint,  the  gene  of  a  settled  life,  &c.,  &c.  It  appears  to  be 


MALTHUS  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


105 


which  constitutes,  causes,  and  results  from  what  we  call 
civilization,  hut  he  appears  irrefragably  to  demonstrate 
(what  I  could  do  little  more  than  surmise)  that  such  di¬ 
minished  fecundity  and  reduction  in  the  rate  of  increase 
must  physiologically  ensue  from  mental  action  and  ad¬ 
vance.*  The  chief  difference  between  our  views  seems  to 
be  that  he  conceives  this  corrective  process  must  arise 
specifically  if  not  directly  from  the  stimulus  given  to  the 
brain  and  nervous  system  by  the  perpetual  struggle  for 
subsistence ;  while  I  should  be  inclined  to  hope  that  a 
sound  career  of  progress,  once  inaugurated,  would  continue, 
and  bring  with  it  that  cerebral  development  which  is  the 
corrective  of  undue  fertility,  even  though  free  expansion 
into  wider  areas  should  have  made  the  pressure  of  that 
struggle  almost  unfelt.~|- 

in  those  animals  which,  for  nervous  development  and  intelligence, 
most  resemble  man,  and  ivhich  share  the  subtle  and  complex  influences 
of  that  artificial  life  which  we  call  civilization ,  that  we  find  the  most 
curious  and  anomalous  modifications  of  fecundity.  May  it  not  be 
abnormal  cerebral  culture  in  the  tamed  elephant  which  so  strangely 
interferes  with  the  procreative  tendency  or  power  ?  as  in  the  case  of 
barren  marriages  which  are  observably  so  frequent  among  persons 
of  preponderatingly  cephalic  temperaments. 

*  “  Principles  of  Biology,”  II.  chap.  13,  which  is  a  masterpiece  of 
rigid  reasoning,  and  fine  but  carefullv  controlled  imagination. 

t  The  continuous  pressure  which  he  anticipates,  however,  he  does 
not  regard  as  a  necessarv  cause  of  suffering  :  “  The  higher  nervous 
development  and  greater  expenditure  in  nervous  action,  here  de¬ 
scribed  as  indirectly  brought  about  by  increase  of  numbers,  and  as 
thereafter  becoming  a  check  upon  the  increase  of  numbers,  must  not 
be  taken  to  imply  an  intenser  strain,  —  a  mentally  laborious  life. 
The  greater  emotional  and  intellectual  power  and  activity  above 
5* 


106 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE 


Mr.  Spencer’s  ultimate  conclusion  is  as  follows  :  — 

“  It  is  manifest  that  in  the  end  pressure  of  population  and  its 
accompanying  evils  will  disappear ;  and  will  leave  a  state  of  things 
requiring  from  each  individual  no  more  than  a  normal  and  pleasurable 
activity.  Cessation  in  the  decrease  of  fertility  implies  cessation  in 
the  development  of  the  nervous  system ;  and  this  implies  a  nervous 
system  that  has  become  equal  to  all  that  is  demanded  of  it,  —  has 
not  to  do  more  than  is  natural  to  it.  But  that  exercise  of  faculties 
which  does  not  exceed  what  is  natural  constitutes  gratification.  In 
the  end,  therefore,  the  obtainment  of  subsistence  and  the  discharge 
of  all  the  parental  and  social  duties  will  require  just  that  kind  and 
amount  of  action  needful  to  health  and  happiness. 

“  The  necessary  antagonism  of  Individuation  and  Genesis  then,  not 
only  fulfils  with  precision  the  a  priori  law  of  maintenance  of  race, 
from  the  Monad  up  to  Man,  but  insures  the  final  attainment  of  the 
highest  form  of  this  maintenance,  —  the  form  in  which  the  amount 
of  life  shall  be  the  greatest  possible,  and  the  births  and  deaths  the 


contemplated  must  be  understood  as  becoming,  by  small  increments, 
organic,  spontaneous,  and  pleasurable.  As,  even  when  relieved  from 
the  pressure  of  necessity,  large-brained  Europeans  voluntarily  enter 
on  enterprises  and  activities  which  the  savage  could  not  keep  up  even 
to  satisfy  urgent  wants  ;  so  their  still  larger  brained  descendants  will, 
in  a  still  higher  degree,  find  their  gratifications  in  careers  entailing 
still  greater  mental  expenditures.  This  enhanced  demand  for  ma¬ 
terials  to  establish  and  carry  on  the  psychical  functions  will  be  a 
constitutional  demand.  We  must  conceive  the  type  gradually  so 
modified,  that  the  more  developed  nervous  system  irresistibly  draws 
off,  for  its  normal  and  enforced  activities,  a  larger  proportion  of  the 
common  stock  of  nutriment,  and  while  thus  increasing  the  intensity, 
completeness,  and  length  of  the  individual  life,  necessarily  diminish¬ 
ing  the  reserve  applicable  to  the  setting  up  of  new  lives,  —  no  longer 
required  to  be  so  numerous.”  —  Principles  of  Biology ,  Yol.  II.  p. 
520. 


M  A  L  T  H  U  S  NOTWITHSTANDING. 


10Y 


fewest  possible.  The  excess  of  fertility  has  rendered  the  process  of  civ¬ 
ilization  inevitable ;  and  the  process  of  civilization  must  inevitably 
diminish  fertility,  and  at  last  destroy  its  excess.  From  the  beginning, 
pressure  of  population  has  been  the  proximate  cause  of  progress.  It 
produced  the  original  diffusion  of  the  race.  It  compelled  men  to 
abandon  predatory  habits  and  take  to  agriculture.  It  led  to  the 
clearing  of  the  earth’s  surface.  It  forced  men  into  the  social  state  ; 
made  social  organization  inevitable ;  and  has  developed  the  social 
sentiments.  It  has  stimulated  to  progressive  improvements  in  pro¬ 
duction,  and  to  increased  skill  and  intelligence.  It  is  daily  thrust¬ 
ing  us  into  closer  contact  and  more  mutually  dependent  relationships. 
And  after  having  caused,  as  it  ultimately  must,  the  due  peopling  of 
the  globe,  and  the  raising  of  all  its  habitable  parts  into  the  highest 
state  of  culture  ;  after  having  brought  all  processes  for  the  satisfac¬ 
tion  of  human  wants  to  perfection  ;  after  having,  at  the  same  time, 
developed  the  intellect  into  complete  competency  for  its  work,  and 
the  feelings  into  complete  fitness  for  social  life,  —  the  pressure  of 
population,  as  it  gradually  finishes  its  work,  must  gradually  bring 
itself  to  an  end.”  * 

In  fine,  that  pressure  of  population  on  the  means  of 
subsistence,  which  was  originally  fancied  to  doom  the 
human  race  to  perpetual  struggle,  discomfort,  and  misery, 
and  to  frown  away  all  dreams  for  its  steady  progress  and 
ultimate  perfectibility,  is  the  very  instrumentality  through, 
which  that  final  issue  is  wrought  out ;  and  through  which, 
if  man  were  only  reasonably  intelligent,  it  might  be 
wrought  out  with  no  more  suffering  or  gene  in  the  process 
than  is  recpiisite  to  supply  the  needful  stimulus  to  the 
natural  inertia  of  the  undeveloped  brain.  The  necessity  for 
exertion  is  all  that  Malthus’s  law  indispensably  implies  and 
involves,  —  and  this  exertion  is  of  itself  or  soon  becomes 

*  “  Principles  of  Biology,”  Part  vi.,  §  376. 


108 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


a  pleasure.  The  righteousness,  wisdom,  and  beneficence 
of  the  arrangement  are  thus  vindicated  the  moment  we 
catch  a  glimpse  of  “  its  perfect  work.” 

Another  formidable  obstacle  to  the  realization  of  our 
ideal  has  now  to  be  considered,  —  the  tendency  in  civilized 
societies  to  multiply  the  race  from  its  inferior  specimens. 


III. 


I 


CIVILIZATION  ANTAGONISTIC 

TO 

THE  LAW  OF  "NATURAL  SELECTION” 


t 


XON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


El  VERY  one  now  is  familiar  with  the  Darwinian 
J  theory  of  the  origin  of  species,  at  least  in  its  main 
principles  and  outlines ;  and  nearly  all  men  qualified  to 
form  an  opinion  are  convinced  of  its  substantial  truth. 
That  theory  explains  how  races  of  animals  vary  as  ages 
roll  on,  so  as  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  changing  external 
conditions  which  those  ages  bring  about.  At  every  given 
moment,  in  every  given  spot  on  the  earth’s  surface,  a 
“  struggle  for  existence  ”  is  going  on  among  all  the  forms 
of  organic  life,  animal  and  vegetable,  then  and  there  alive  ; 
a  struggle  in  which,  as  there  is  not  room  for  all,  the  weaker 
and  less  adapted  succumb,  while  the  stronger  and  better 
adapted  survive  and  multiply.  As  surrounding  circum¬ 
stances,  climatic  or  geological,  vary  and  are  modified, 
corresponding  variations  (such  as  are  always  incidentally 
appearing  among  the  offspring  of  all  creatures)  in  the  inhab¬ 
itants  of  each  district  crop  up,  increase,  spread,  and  become 
permanent.  The  creatures  that  are  most  in  harmony  with 
surrounding  circumstances  have  a  manifest  daily  and  hour¬ 
ly  advantage  over  those  which  are  less  in  harmony :  live 
when  they  die  ;  flourish  when  they  fade ;  endure  through 


112 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


wliat  kills  others ;  can  find  food,  catch  prey,  escape  en¬ 
emies,  when  their  feebler,  slower,  blinder  brethren  are 
starved  and  slain.  *  Thus  the  most  perfect  specimens  of 

*  “  The  grand  feature  in  the  multiplication  of  organic  life  is  that 
of  close  general  resemblance,  combined  with  more  or  less  individual 
variation.  The  child  resembles  its  parents  or  ancestors  more  or  less 
closely  in  all  its  peculiarities,  deformities,  or  beauties  ;  it  resembles 
them  in  general  more  than  it  does  any  other  individuals  ;  yet  chil¬ 
dren  of  the  same  parents  are  not  all  alike,  and  it  often  happens  that 
they  differ  very  considerably  from  their  parents  and  from  each  other. 
This  is  equally  true  of  man,  of  all  animals,  and  of  all  plants.  More¬ 
over,  it  is  found  that  individuals  do  not  differ  from  their  parents  in 
certain  particulars  only,  while  in  all  others  they  are  exact  duplicates 
of  them.  They  differ  from  them  and  from  each  other  in  every  par¬ 
ticular  :  in  form,  in  size,  in  color,  in  the  structure  of  internal  as  well 
as  of  external  organs  ;  in  those  subtle  peculiarities  which  produce 
differences  of  constitution,  as  well  as  in  those  still  more  subtle  ones 
which  lead  to  modifications  of  mind  and  character.  In  other  words, 
in  every  possible  way,  in  every  organ,  and  in  every  function,  indi¬ 
viduals  of  the  same  stock  vary. 

“  Now,  health,  strength,  and  long  life  are  the  results  of  a  harmony 
between  the  individual  and  the  universe  that  surrounds  it.  Let  us 
suppose  that  at  any  given  moment  this  harmony  is  perfect.  A  certain 
animal  is  exactly  fitted  to  secure  its  prey,  to  escape  from  its  enemies, 
to  resist  the  inclemencies  of  the  seasons,  and  to  rear  a  numerous 
and  healthy  offspring.  But  a  change  now  takes  place.  A  series  of 
cold  winters,  for  instance,  come  on,  making  food  scarce,  and  bringing 
an  immigration  of  some  other  animals  to  compete  with  the  former 
inhabitants  of  the  district.  The  new  immigrant  is  swift  of  foot,  and 
surpasses  its  rivals  in  the  pursuit  of  game  ;  the  winter  nights  are 
colder,  and  require  a  thicker  fur  as  a  protection,  and  more  nourish¬ 
ing  food  to  keep  up  the  heat  of  the  system.  Our  supposed  perfect 
animal  is  no  longer  in  harmony  with  its  universe  ;  it  is  in  danger  of 
dying  of  cold  or  of  starvation.  But  the  animal  varies  in  its  off- 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


113 


each  race  and  tribe,  the  strongest,  the  swiftest,  the  health¬ 
iest,  the  most  sagacious,  the  most  courageous,  —  those  full¬ 
spring.  Some  of  these  are  swifter  than  others,  —  they  still  manage 
to  catch  food  enough  ;  some  are  hardier  and  more  thickly  furred,  — 
they  manage  in  the  cold  nights  to  keep  warm  enough  ;  the  slow,  the 
weak,  and  the  thinly  clad  soon  die  off.  Again,  and  again,  in  each 
succeeding  generation,  the  same  thing  takes  place.  By  this  natural 
process,  which  is  so  inevitable  that  it  cannot  be  conceived  not  to  act, 
those  best  adapted  to  live,  live  ;  those  least  adapted,  die.  It  is  some¬ 
times  said  that  we  have  no  direct  evidence  of  the  action  of  this 
selecting  power  in  nature.  But  it  seems  to  me  we  have  better  evi¬ 
dence  than  even  direct  observation  would  be,  because  it  is  more 
universal,  viz.,  the  evidence  of  necessity.  It  must  be  so  ;  for,  as  all 
wild  animals  increase  in  a  geometrical  ratio,  while  their  actual  num¬ 
bers  remain  on  the  average  stationary,  it  follows  that  as  many  die 
annually  as  are  born.  If,  therefore,  we  deny  natural  selection,  it  can 
only  be  by  asserting  that  in  such  a  case  as  I  have  supposed  the 
strong,  the  healthy,  the  swift,  the  well-clad,  the  well-organized  an¬ 
imals  in  every  respect,  have  no  advantage  over,  —  do  not  on  the  aver¬ 
age  live  longer  than  the  weak,  the  unhealthy,  the  slow,  the  ill-clad, 
and  the  imperfectly  organized  individuals  ;  and  this  no  sane  man  has 
yet  been  found  hardy  enough  to  assert.  But  this  is  not  all  ;  for  the 
offspring  on  the  average  resemble  their  parents,  and  the  selected 
portion  of  each  succeeding  generation  will  therefore  be  stronger, 
swifter,  and  more  thickly  furred  than  the  last  ;  and  if  this  process 
goes  on  for  thousands  of  generations,  our  animal  will  have  again  be¬ 
come  thoroughly  in  harmony  with  the  new  conditions  in  which  he  is 
placed.  But  he  will  now  be  a  different  creature.  He  will  be  not 
only  swifter  and  stronger,  and  more  furry  ;  he  will  also  probably 
have  changed  in  color,  in  form,  perhaps  have  acquired  a  longer  tail, 
or  differently  shaped  ears  ;  for  it  is  an  ascertained  fact,  that  Avhen 
one  part  of  an  animal  is  modified,  some  other  parts  almost  always 
change  as  it  were  in  sympathy  with  it.”  —  Wallace  a  On  Natural 
Selection ,”  ch.  ix. 


H 


114 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


est  of  vitality,  —  live  longest,  feed  best,  overcome  their 
competitors  in  the  choice  of  mates  ;  and,  in  virtue  of  these 
advantages,  become  —  as  it  is  desirable  they  should  be  — 
the  progenitors  of  the  future  race.  The  poorer  specimens, 
the  sick,  the  foolish,  the  faulty,  the  weak,  are  slain  or  drop 
out  of  existence  ;  are  distanced  in  the  chase,  are  beaten 
in  the  fight,  can  find  no  females  to  match  with  them ;  and 
the  species  is  propagated  and  continued  mainly,  increas¬ 
ingly,  if  not  exclusively,  from  its  finest  and  most  selected 
individuals,  —  in  a  word,  its  elite.  Thus  is  established 
what  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  calls  the  law  of  “  the  Survival 
of  the  Fittest.” 

This  explains  not  only  those  extraordinary  changes  in 
the  form  and  habits  of  the  same  animals  which,  when 
aided  and  aggravated  by  man’s  requirements  and  careful 
management,  strike  us  so  forcibly  in  domesticated  races, 
but  also  those  purely  natural  though  far  slower  modifica¬ 
tions  which  geological  researches  have  brought  to  our 
knowledge.  Mr.  Wallace,  in  the  admirable  paper  just 
quoted,  —  which  is  a  perfect  model  of  succinct  statement 
and  lucid  reasoning,  —  has  pointed  out  how  this  principle 
of  natural  selection  has  been  modified,  and  in  a  manner 
veiled  and  disguised,  though  by  no  means  either  neutral¬ 
ized  or  suspended,  in  the  case  of  man  ;  so  that  neither 
history  nor  geology  enable  us  to  trace  any  changes  in  his 
external  structure  analogous  to  those  which  we  find  in 
such  abundance  and  to  such  a  remarkable  extent  in  the 
case  of  the  lower  animals.  He  adapts  himself,  just  as  they 
do,  to  the  altered  conditions  of  external  nature,  but  he  does 
it  by  mental,  not  by  bodily,  modifications.  As  with  them,  so 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


115 


with  him,  the  best  adapted  to  surrounding  circumstances, 
the  most  in  harmony  with  the  imperious  necessities  of  life, 
surmount,  survive,  and  multiply ;  but  in  his  case  the  adap¬ 
tion  is  made  and  the  harmony  secured  by  intellectual  and 
moral  efforts  and  qualities,  which  leave  no  stamp  on  the 
corporeal  frame.  As  with  them,  inferior  varieties  and  in¬ 
dividuals  succumb  and  die  out  in  the  eternal  and  universal 
“  struggle  for  existence  ”  ;  only,  in  the  case  of  man,  the 
inferiority  which  determines  their  fate  is  not  so  much  in¬ 
feriority  of  muscle,  of  stomach,  or  of  skin,  as  of  brain. 

“  In  man,  as  we  now  behold  him,  this  is  different.  He  is  social 
and  sympathetic.  In  the  rudest  tribes  the  sick  are  assisted  at  least 
with  food  ; .  less  robust  health  and  vigor  than  the  average  does  not 
entail  death.  Neither  does  the  want  of  perfect  limbs  or  other 
organs  produce  the  same  effect  as  among  the  lower  animals. 
Some  division  of  labor  takes  place  ;  the  swiftest  hunt,  the  less 
active  fish  or  gather  fruits  ;  food  is  to  some  extent  exchanged  or 
divided.  The  action  of  natural  selection  is  therefore  checked  :  the 
weaker,  the  dwarfish,  those  of  less  active  limbs  or  less  piercing 
eyesight,  do  not  suffer  the  extreme  penalty  which  falls  on  animals 
so  defective. 

“  In  proportion  as  these  physical  characteristics  become  of  less 
importance,  mental  and  moral  qualities  will  have  increasing  influ¬ 
ence  on  the  well-being  of  the  race.  Capacity  for  acting  in  concert, 
for  protection  and  for  the  acquisition  of  food  and  shelter  ;  sympathy, 
which  leads  all  in  turn  to  assist  each  other  ;  the  sense  of  right, 
which  checks  depredations  upon  our  fellows  ;  the  decrease  of  the 
combative  and  destructive  propensities  ;  self-restraint  in  present 
appetites  ;  and  that  intelligent  foresight  which  prepares  for  the 
future,  —  are  all  qualities  that  from  their  earliest  appearance  must 
have  been  for  the  benefit  of  each  community,  and  would,  therefore, 
have  become  the  subjects  of  1  natural  selection.’  For  it  is  evident 
that  such  qualities  would  be  for  the  well-being  of  man  ;  would 


116 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


guard  him  against  external  enemies,  against  internal  dissensions, 
and  against  the  effects  of  inclement  seasons  and  impending  famine, 
more  surely  than  could  any  merely  physical  modification.'  Tribes 
in  which  such  mental  and  moral  qualities  were  predominant 
would  therefore  have  an  advantage  in  the  struggle  for  existence 
over  other  tribes  in  which  the}7  were  less  developed,  would  live  and 
maintain  their  numbers,  while  the  others  would  decrease  and  finally 
succumb. 

“  Again,  when  any  slow  changes  of  physical  geography  or  of  cli¬ 
mate  make  it  necessary  for  an  animal  to  alter  its  food,  its  clothing, 
or  its  weapons,  it  can  only  do  so  by  a  corresponding  change  in  its 
own  bodily  structure  and  internal  organization.  If  a  larger  or  more 
powerful  beast  is  to  be  captured  and  devoured,  as  when  a  carnivo¬ 
rous  animal  which  has  hitherto  preyed  on  sheep  is  obliged  from  their 
decreasing  numbers  to  attack  buffaloes,  it  is  only  the  strongest  who 
can  hold,  —  those  with  most  powerful  claws,  and  formidable  canine 
teeth  that  can  struggle  with  and  overcome  such  an  animal.  Natural 
selection  immediately  comes  into  play,  and  by  its  action  these 
organs  gradually  become  adapted  to  their  new  requirements.  But 
man,  under  similar  circumstances,  does  not  require  longer  nails  or 
teeth,  greater  bodily  strength  or  swiftness.  He  makes  sharper 
spears,  or  a  better  bow,  or  he  constructs  a  cunning  pitfall,  or 
combines  in  a  hunting  party  to  circumvent  his  new  prey.  The 
capacities  which  enable  him  to  do  this  are  what  he  requires  to  be 
strengthened,  and  these  will,  therefore,  be  gradually  modified  by 
‘  natural  selection,’  while  the  form  and  structure  of  his  body  will 
remain  unchanged.  So  when  a  glacial  epoch  comes  on,  some  ani¬ 
mals  must  acquire  warmer  fur,  or  a  covering  of  fat,  or  else  die  of  cold. 
Those  best  clothed  by  nature  are,  therefore,  preserved  by  natural 
selection.  Man,  under  the  same  circumstances,  will  make  himself 
warmer  clothing  and  build  better  houses  ;  and  the  necessity  of 
doing  this  will  react  upon  his  mental  organization  and  social  condi¬ 
tion,  will  advance  them  while  his  natural  body  remains  naked  as 
before. 

“  When  the  accustomed  food  of  some  animal  becomes  scarce  or 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


.117 


totally  fails,  it  can  only  exist  by  becoming  adapted  to  a  new  kind  of 
food,  a  food  perhaps  less  nourishing  and  less  digestible.  ‘Natural 
selection  ’  will  now  act  upon  the  stomach  and  intestines,  and  all 
their  individual  variations  will  be  taken  advantage  of  to  modify  the 
race  into  harmony  with  its  new  food.  In  many  cases,  however,  it  is 
probable  that  this  cannot  be  done.  The  internal  organs  may  not 
vary  quick  enough,  and  then  the  animal  will  decrease  in  numbers 
and  finally  become  extinct.  But  man  guards  himself  from  such 
accidents  by  superintending  and  guiding  the  operations  of  nature. 
He  plants  the  seed  of  his  most  agreeable  food,  and  thus  procures  a 
supply  independent  of  the  accidents  of  varying  seasons  or  natural 
extinction.  He  domesticates  animals  which  serve  him  either  to 
capture  food  or- for  food  itself,  and  thus  changes  of  any  great  extent 
in  his  teeth  or  digestive  organs  are  rendered  unnecessary.  Man, 
too,  has  everywhere  the  use  of  fire,  and  by  its  means  can  render 
palatable  a  variety  of  animal  and  vegetable  substances,  which  he 
could  hardly  otherwise  make  use  of,  and  thus  obtains  for  himself  a 
supply  of  food  far  more  varied  and  abundant  than  that  which  any 
animal  can  command. 

“  Thus  man,  by  the  mere  capacity  of  clothing  himself,  and  making 
weapons  and  tools,  has  taken  away  from  Nature  that  power  of 
changing  the  external  form  and  structure  which  she  exercises  over 
all  other  animals.  As  the  competing  races  by  which  the}^  were 
surrounded,  the  climate,  the  vegetation,  or  the  animals  which  serve 
them  for  food,  are  slowly  changing,  they  must  undergo  a  corre¬ 
sponding  change  in  their  structure,  habits,  and  constitution,  to  keep 
them  in  harmony  with  the  new  conditions,  —  to  enable  them  to 
live  and  maintain  their  numbers.  But  man  does  this  by  means  of 
his  intellect  alone  ;  which  enables  him  with  an  unchanged  body 
still  to  keep  in  harmony  with  the  changing  universe. 

“  From  the  time,  therefore,  when  the  social  and  sympathetic  feel¬ 
ings  came  into  active  operation,  and  the  intellectual  and  moral 
faculties  became  fairly  developed,  man  would  cease  to  be  influenced 
by  ‘  natural  selection  ’  in  his  physical  form  and  structure  ;  as  an 
animal  he  would  remain  almost  stationary  ;  the  changes  of  the 


118 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


surrounding  universe  would  cease  to  have  upon  him  that  powerful 
modifying  effect  which  they  exercise  over  other  parts  of  the  organic 
world.  But  from  the  moment  that  his  body  became  stationary, 
his  mind  would  become  subject  to  those  very  influences  from  which 
his  body  had  escaped  ;  every  slight  variation  in  his  mental  and 
moral  nature  which  should  enable  him  better  to  guard  against 
adverse  circumstances,  and  combine  for  mutual  comfort  and  pro¬ 
tection,  would  be  preserved  and  accumulated  ;  the  better  and  higher 
specimens  of  our  race  would  therefore  increase  and  spread,  the 
lower  and  more  brutal  would  give  way  and  successively  die  out, 
and  that  rapid  advancement  of  mental  organization  would  occur, 
which  has  raised  the  very  lowest  races  of  man  so  far  above  the 
brutes  (although  differing  so  little  from  some  of  them  in  physical 
structure),  and,  in  conjunction  with  scarcely  perceptible  modifica¬ 
tions  of  form,  has  developed  the  wonderful  intellect  of  the  Germanic 
races.” 

But  this  is  by  no  means  the  whole  of  the  case.  As  we 
follow  out  the  reflections  suggested  by  this  argument,  an 
entirely  new  series  of  consequences  and  operations  opens 
before  us.  We  perceive  that  the  working  of  the  law  of 
“  natural  selection,”  and  of  “  the  preservation  of  favored 
races  and  individuals  in  the  struggle  for  existence,”  has 
become  in  the  course  of  man  s  progress  not  only  thus 
modified,  as  Mr.  Wallace  points  out,  and  directed  to  one 
part  of  his  organization  (the  brain)  alone,  but  positively 
suspended,  and  in  many  instances  almost  reversed.  It 
even  dawns  upon  us  that  our  existing  civilization,  which 
is  the  result  of  the  operation  of  this  law  in  past  ages, 
may  be  actually  retarded  and  endangered  by  its  tendency 
to  neutralize  that  law  in  one  or  two  most  material  and 
significant  particulars.  The  great,  wise,  righteous,  and 
beneficent  principle  which  in  all  other  animals,  and  in 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


119 


man  himself,  up  to  a  certain  stage  of  his  progress,  tends 
to  the  improvement  and  perfection  of  the  race,  would 
appear  to  be  forcibly  interfered  with  and  nearly  set  aside  ; 
nay,  to  be  set  aside  pretty  much  in  direct  proportion  to 
the  complication,  completeness,  and  culmination  of  our 
civilization.  I  do  not  assert  that  if  our  civilization  were 
purely  and  philosophically  ideal  —  perfect  in  character 
as  well  as  splendid  and  lofty  in  degree  —  this  result 
would  follow,  or  would  continue  ;  but  it  certainly  does 
follow  now,  and  it  delays  and  positively  menaces  the 
attainment  of  that  ideal  condition.  My  thesis  is  this  : 
that  the  indisputable  effect  of  the  state  of  social  progress 
and  culture  we  have  reached,  of  our  high  civilization  in 
its  present  stage  and  actual  form,  is  to  counteract  and 
suspend  the  operation  of  that  righteous  and  salutary  law 
of  “  natural  selection  ”  in  virtue  of  which  the  best  speci¬ 
mens  of  the  race  —  the  strongest,  the  finest,  the  worthiest 
—  are  those  which  survive,  multiply,  become  paramount, 
and  take  precedence  ;  succeed  and  triumph  in  the  strug¬ 
gle  for  existence,  become  the  especial  progenitors  of  future 
generations,  continue  the  species,  and  propagate  an  ever 
improving  and  perfecting  type  of  humanity. 

The  principle  of  the  “  Survival  of  the  Fittest  ”  does  not 
appear  to  fail  in  the  case  of  races  of  men.  Here  the  abler, 
the  stronger,  the  more  advanced,  the  finer,  in  short,  are  still 
the  favored  ones ;  succeed  in  the  competition ;  exterminate, 
govern,  supersede,  fight,  eat,  or  work  the  inferior  tribes  out 
of  existence.  The  process  is  quite  as  certain,  and  nearly 
as  rapid,  whether  we  are  just  or  unjust ;  whether  we  use 
carefulness  or  cruelty.  Everywhere  the  savage  tribes  of 


120 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


mankind  die  out  at  the  contact  of  the  civilized  ones. 
Sometimes  they  are  extinguished  by  conquest  and  the 
sword ;  sometimes  by  the  excessive  toil  which  avaricious 
victors  impose  upon  the  feeble  vanquished  ;  often  by  the 
diseases  which  the  more  artificial  man  brings  with  him  and 
which  flourish  with  fearful  vigor  in  a  virgin  soil ;  occa¬ 
sionally  they  fade  away  before  the  superior  vitality  and 
prolific  energy  of  the  invading  race  in  lands  where  there 
is  not  room  for  both :  they  are  crushed,  in  fact,  by  the  se¬ 
verity  of  competition ;  in  some  cases  they  sink  under  the 
new  and  unsuitable  habits  which  civilization  tries  to 
introduce  among  them  ;  not  unfrequently,  it  would  seem, 
from  some  mysterious  blight  which  the  mere  presence  of 
a  superior  form  of  humanity  casts  over  them.  But,  in 
every  part  of  the  world,  and  in  every  instance,  the  result 
has  been  the  same  ;  the  process  of  extinction  is  either 
completed  or  actively  at  work.  The  Indians  of  the  Antil¬ 
les,  the  Bed  man  of  North  America,  the  South  Sea  Island¬ 
ers,  the  Australians,  even  the  New-Zealanders  (the  finest 
and  most  pliable  and  teachable  of  savages),  are  all  alike 
dying  out  with  strange  rapidity,  —  in  consequence  of  the 
harshness,  or  in  spite  of  the  forbearance  and  protection, 
of  the  stronger  and  more  capable  European.  The  negro 
alone  survives,  —  and  seems  likely  to  survive.  He  only 
has  been  able  to  hold  his  own  after  a  fashion,  and  to  live 
and  flourish  side  by  side  with  masterful  and  mightier 
races,  though  in  a  questionable  relation  and  with  question¬ 
able  results.  But  the  exception  is  a  confirmation  of  the 
general  law.  The  negro  is  not  only  strong,  docile,  and 
prolific,  but  in  some  respects  he  is  better  adapted  to  sur- 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


121 


rounding  conditions  than  his  European  neighbor,  conquer¬ 
or,  or  master ;  in  certain  climates  he,  and  not  the  white 
man,  is  “  the  favored  race  ” ;  and  for  many  generations, 
perhaps  for  ages,  in  the  burning  regions  about  the  equator, 
a  black  skin  may  take  precedence  of  a  large  brain,  and  be 
a  more  indispensable  condition  of  existence  ;  or  possibly 
the  brain  may  grow  larger  without  the  skin  growing  any 
whiter.  The  principle  of  “  natural  selection,”  therefore,  — 
of  the  superior  and  fitter  races  of  mankind  trampling  out 
and  replacing  the  poorer  races,  in  virtue  of  their  superior 
fitness,  —  would  seem  to  hold  good  universally. 

So  probably  it  does  also,  and  always  has  done,  in  the 
case  of  nations ;  and  the  apparent  exceptions  to  the  rule 
may  be  due  only  to  our  erroneous  estimate  of  the  true  ele¬ 
ments  of  superiority.  In  the  dawn  of  history  the  more 
cultivated  and  energetic  races  conquered  the  weaker  and 
less  advanced,  reduced  them  to  slavery,  or  taught  them 
civilization.  It  is  true  that  in  the  case  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  the  coarser  organization  and  less  developed  brain 
of  the  latter  overpowered  and  overshadowed  probably  the 
finest  physical  and  intellectual  nature  that  has  yet  ap¬ 
peared  upon  the  earth ;  but  the  Greeks,  when  they  thus 
succumbed,  had  fallen  awTay  from  the  perfection  of  their 
palmier  days  ;  they  had  grown  enervated  and  corrupt ;  and 
the  tougher  fibre,  the  robuster  will,  and  the  unequalled 
political  genius  of  their  Roman  conquerors  constituted  an 
undeniable  superiority.  They  triumphed  by  the  law  of 
the  strongest,  —  though  their  strength  might  not  lie  pre¬ 
cisely  in  the  noblest  portion  of  man’s  nature.  Intellectu¬ 
ally  the  inferiors  of  the  Greeks  whom  they  subdued,  they 


122 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


were  morally  and  volitionally  more  vigorous.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  those  rude  Northern  warriors  who,  at  a 
later  period,  flowed  over  and  mastered  the  degenerate 
Roman  world.  They  had  no  culture,  but  they  had  vast 
capacities  ;  and  they  brought  with  them  a  renovating  ir¬ 
ruption  of  that  hard  energy  and  redundant  vitality  which 
luxury  and  success  had  nearly  extinguished  among  those 
they  conquered.  They  were  then  “  the  most  favored  race,” 
the  fittest  for  the  exigencies  of  the  hour,  the  best  adapted 
to  the  conditions  of  the  life  around  them ;  they  prevailed, 
therefore,  by  reason  of  a  very  indisputable,  though  not  the 
most  refined  sort  of,  superiority.  With  the  nations  of 
modern  history,  the  same  rule  has  governed  the  main  cur¬ 
rent  of  the  world,  though  perhaps  with  more  instances  of 
at  least  apparent  exception.  Each  nation  that  has  domi¬ 
nated  in  turn,  or  occupied  the  first  post  in  the  world’s 
annals,  has  done  so  by  right  of  some  one  quality,  achieve¬ 
ment,  or  possession,  —  then  especially  needed,  —  which 
made  it  for  the  time  the  stronger,  if  not  intrinsically  the 
nobler,  among  many  rivals.  Intellect,  and  intellect  applied 
alike  to  art,  to  commerce,  and  to  science,  at  one  period 
made  the  Italians  the  most  prominent  people  in  Europe. 
There  was  an  undeniable  grandeur  in  the  Spanish  nation 
in  its  culminating  years  towards  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 
century  which  gave  it  a  right  to  rule,  and  at  once  explained 
and  justified  both  its  discoveries  and  its  conquests.  No  one 
can  say  that  France  did  not  fairly  win  her  vast  influence 
and  her  epochs  of  predominance  by  her  wonderful  military 
spirit  and  the  peculiarity  of  her  singularly  clear,  keen, 
restless,  but  not  rich  intelligence.  England  owes  her 

7  o  O 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


123 


world-wide  dominion  and  (what  is  far  more  significant 
and  a  greater  subject  for  felicitation)  the  wide  diffusion  of 
her  race  over  the  globe,  to  a  daring  and  persistent  energy 
with  which  no  other  variety  of  mankind  is  so  largely  dow¬ 
ered.  Even  the  Ottoman  and  Arabian  races  had  special 
qualities  or  elements  of  superiority  which  warranted  their 
temporary  sway.  And  if  in  modern  conflicts  might  has 
sometimes  triumphed  over  right,  and  the  finer  and  kinder 
people  fallen  before  the  assaults  of  the  stronger  and  harsh¬ 
er,  and  the  events  of  history  run  counter  to  all  our  truer 
and  juster  sympathies,  it  is  probably  because  in  the  coun¬ 
sels  of  the  Most  High,  energy  is  seen  to  be  more  needed 
than  culture  to  carry  on  the  advancement  of  humanity, 
and  a  commanding  will,  at  least  in  this  stage  of  our  pro¬ 
gress,  to  be  a  more  essential  endowment  than  an  amiable 
temper  or  a  good  heart.  At  all  events  it  is  those  wrho  in 
some  sense  are  the  strongest  and  the  fittest  who  most 
prevail,  multiply,  and  spread,  and  become  in  the  largest 
measure  the  progenitors  of  future  nations. 

But  when  we  come  to  the  case  of  individuals  in  a 
people,  or  classes  in  a  community,  —  the  phase  of  the 
question  which  has  far  the  most  practical  and  immediate 
interest  for  ourselves,  —  the  principle  would  appear  to 
fail,  and  the  law  is  no  longer  supreme.  Civilization, 
with  its  social,  moral,  and  material  complications,  has 
introduced  a  disturbing  and  conflicting  element.  It  is 
not  now,  as  Mr.  Wallace  depicts,  that  intellectual  has 
been  substituted  for  physical  superiority,  but  that  arti¬ 
ficial  and  conventional  have  taken  the  place  of  natural 
advantages  as  the  ruling  and  deciding  force.  It  is  no 


124 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


longer  the  strongest,  the  healthiest,  the  most  perfectly 
organized ;  it  is  not  men  of  the  finest  physique,  the 
largest  brain,  the  most  developed  intelligence,  the  best 
morale,  that  are  “  favored  ”  and  successful  “  in  the  struggle 
for  existence,”  that  survive,  that  rise  to  the  surface,  that 
“natural  selection”  makes  the  parents  of  future  genera¬ 
tions,  the  continuators  of  a  picked  and  perfected  race. 
It  is  still  “  the  most  favored,”  no  doubt,  in  some  sense, 
who  hear  away  the  palm,  but  the  indispensable  favor  is 
too  often  that  of  fortune,  not  of  nature.  The  various 
influences  of  our  social  system  combine  to  traverse  the 
righteous  and  salutary  law  which  God  ordained  for  the 
preservation  of  a  worthy  and  improving  humanity ;  and 
the  “  varieties  ”  of  man  that  endure  and  multiply  their 
likenesses,  and  mould  the  features  of  the  coming  times, 
are  not  the  soundest  constitutions  that  can  be  found 
among  us,  nor  the  most  subtle  and  resourceful  minds, 
nor  the  most  amiable  or  self-denying  tempers,  nor  the 
most  sagacious  judgments,  nor  even  the  most  imperious 
and  persistent  wills,  but  often  the  precise  reverse,  —  often 
those  emasculated  by  luxury  and  those  damaged  by  want, 
those  rendered  reckless  by  squalid  poverty,  and  those 
whose  physical  and  mental  energies  have  been  sapped, 
and  whose  characters  have  been  grievously  impaired,  by 
long  indulgence  and  forestalled  desires. 

The  two  great  instruments  and  achievements  of  civili¬ 
zation  are  respect  for  life  and  respect  for  property.  In 
proportion  as  both  are  secure,  as  life  is  prolonged  and  as 
wealth  is  accumulated,  and  as  the  poor  and  weak  are 
cared  for,  so  nations  rise,  or  consider  that  they  have 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


125 


risen.  Among  wild  animals  the  sick  and  maimed  are 
slain ;  among  savages  they  succumb  and  die  or  are  sup* 
pressed ;  among  us  they  are  cared  for,  kept  alive,  enabled 
to  marry  and  multiply.  In  uncivilized  tribes,  the  inef¬ 
fective  and  incapable,  the  weak  in  body  or  in  mind,  are 
unable  to  provide  themselves  food ;  they  fall  behind  in 
the  chase  or  in  the  march ;  they  fall  out,  therefore,  in  the 
race  of  life.  With  us,  sustenance  and  shelter  are  pro¬ 
vided  for  them,  and  they  survive.  We  pride  otirselves  — 
and  justly  —  on  the  increased  length  of  life  which  has 
been  effected  by  our  science  and  our  humanity.  But  we 
forget  that  this  higher  average  of  life  may  be  compatible 
with,  and  may  in  a  measure  result  from,  a  lower  average 
of  health.  We  have  kept  alive  those  who,  in  a  more 
natural  and  less  advanced  state,  would  have  died,  —  and 
who,  looking  at  the  physical  perfection  of  the  race  alone, 
had  better  have  been  left  to  die.  Among  savages,  the 
vigorous  and  sound  alone  survive  ;  among  us,  the  diseased 
and  enfeebled  survive  as  well ;  but  is  either  the  physique 
or  the  intelligence  of  cultivated  man  the  gainer  by  the 
change  ?  In  a  wild  state,  by  the  law  of  natural  selec¬ 
tion,  only  or  chiefly,  the  sounder  and  stronger  specimens 
were  allowed  to  continue  their  species  ;  with  us,  thou¬ 
sands  with  tainted  constitutions,  frames  weakened  by 
malady  or  waste,  brains  bearing  subtle  and  hereditary 
mischief  in  their  recesses,  are  suffered  to  transmit  their 
terrible  inheritance  of  evil  to  other  generations,  and  to 
spread  it  through  a  whole  community. 

Security  of  property,  security  for  its  transmission  as 
well  as  for  its  enjoyment,  is  one  of  our  chief  boasts. 


I 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


126 


Thousands  upon  thousands  who  never  could  themselves 
have  acquired  property  by  industry,  or  conquered  it  by 
courage,  or  kept  it  by  strength  or  ingenuity,  and  who  are 
utterly  incompetent  to  use  it  well,  are  yet  enabled  by 
law  to  inherit  and  retain  it.  They  are  born  to  wealth, 
they  revel  in  wealth,  though  destitute  of  all  the  qualities 
by  which  wealth  is  won,  or  its  possession  made  a  blessing 
to  the  community.  In  a  natural  state  of  society  they 
would  have  been  pushed  out  of  existence,  stripped  of 
their  inherited  and  ill-used  possessions,  jostled  aside  in 
the  struggle  and  the  race,  and  left  by  the  wayside  to  die. 
In  civilized  communities  they  are  protected,  fostered, 
flattered,  married,  and  empowered  to  hand  down  their 
vapid  incapacities  to  numerous  offspring,  whom  perhaps 
they  can  leave  wealthy  too.  In  old  and  highly  advanced 
nations,  the  classes  who  wield  power  and  affluence  and 
social  supremacy  as  a  consequence  of  the  security  of 
property,  do  not  as  a  rule  consist  —  nay,  may  consist  in  a 
very  small  measure  —  of  individuals  who  have  wTon,  or 
could  have  won,  those  influences  for  themselves,  —  of 
natural  “  kings  of  men  ”  ;  the  elite  lots  in  life  do  not  fall 
to  the  elite  of  the  race  or  the  community.*  Those  pos¬ 
sessions  and  that  position,  which  in  more  simply  organ¬ 
ized  tribes  would  be  an  indication  and  a  proof  either  of 

*  Mr.  Darwin  points  ont  here  as  a  per  contra ,  the  validity  of 
which  is  great  and  indisputable,  the  good  effect  of  this  transmission 
of  property  in  securing  the  existence  of  a  leisured  class  adapted  for 
literature,  government,  and  thought.  “  The  presence  of  a  body  of 
well-instructed  men,  who  have  not  to  labor  for  their  daily  bread, 
is  important  to  a  degree  that  can  hardly  be  overestimated  ;  as  all 


NON-SUKVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


127 


strength,  of  intelligence,  or  of  some  happy  adaptation  to 
surrounding  exigencies,  now  in  our  complicated  world 
indicate  nothing —  at  least  in  five  cases  out  of  six — but 
merit  or  energy  or  luck  in  some  ancestor,  perhaps  incon¬ 
ceivably  remote,  who  has  bequeathed  his  rank  and  prop¬ 
erty  to  his  successors,  but  without  the  qualities  which 
won  them  and  warranted  them.  Yet  this  property  and 
rank  still  enable  their  possibly  unworthy  and  incapable 
inheritors  to  take  precedence  over  others  in  many  of  the 
walks  of  life,  to  carry  off  the  most  desirable  brides  from 
less  favored  though  far  nobler  rivals,  and  (what  is  our 
present  point)  to  make  those  brides  the  mothers  of  a 
degenerating,  instead  of  an  ever-improving  race. 

But  even  this  by  no  means  presents  the  whole  strength 
of  the  case.  Not  only  does  civilization,  as  it  exists  among 
us,  enable  rank  and  wealth,  however  diseased,  enfeebled, 
or  unintelligent,  to  become  the  continuators  of  the  species 
in  preference  to  larger  brains,  stronger  frames,  and  sounder 
constitutions  ;  but  that  very  rank  and  wealth,  thus  inher¬ 
ited  without  effort  and  in  absolute  security,  often  tend  to 
produce  enervated  and  unintelligent  offspring.  To  be 
born  in  the  purple  is  not  the  right  introduction  to  healthy 
energy ;  to  be  surrounded  from  the  cradle  with  all  temp¬ 
tations  and  facilities  to  self-indulgence,  is  not  the  best 
safeguard  against  those  indulgences  which  weaken  the 

high  intellectual  work  is  carried  on  by  them,  and  on  such  work 
material  progress  of  all  kinds  mainly  depends,  —  not  to  mention 
other  and  higher  advantages.”  —  Descent  of  Man,  I.  p.  169. 

But  do  the  majority  of  this  rich  and  leisured  class  occupy  them¬ 
selves  with  “  high  intellectual  work  ”  1 


128 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


intellect  and  exhaust  the  frame.  No  doubt  noblesse  oblige , 
and  riches  can  buy  the  highest  education,  —  always  ex¬ 
cepting  that  education  by  surrounding  circumstances 
which  is  really  the  only  one  that  tells  very  effectually 
on  the  youthful  plant.  No  doubt,  too,  there  are  splendid 
and  numerous  exceptions,  —  instances  in  which  rank  is 
used  to  mould  its  heir  to  its  duties,  and  in  which  wealth 
is  used  to  purchase  and  achieve  all  that  makes  life  noble 
and  beneficent.  But  we  have  only  to  look  around  us, 
and  a  little  below  the  surface,  and  then  ask  ourselves 
whether,  as  a  rule,  the  owners  of  rank  and  wealth  —  still 
more  the  owners  of  wealth  without  rank  —  are  those 
from  whose  paternity  we  should  have  most  right  to  antici¬ 
pate  a  healthy,  a  noble,  an  energetic,  or  a  truly  intellectual 
offspring,  —  a  race  fitted  to  control  and  guide  themselves 
as  well  as  others,  to  subdue  the  earth  as  well  as  to  replen¬ 
ish  it,  to  govern,  to  civilize,  to  illustrate,  to  carry  forward 
the  future  destinies  of  man  ? 

And  if  it  is  not  from  the  highest  and  most  opulent 
that  we  can  expect  this  desiderated  posterity,  assuredly 
it  is  not  from  the  lowest  and  most  indigent.  The 
; physique  and  the  morale  of  both  the  extreme  classes  are 
imperfect  and  impaired.  The  physique  of  the  rich  is 
injured  by  indulgence  and  excess ;  that  of  the  poor  by 
privation  and  want.  The  morale  of  the  former  has  never 
been  duly  called  forth  by  the  necessity  for  exertion  and  self- 
denial  ;  that  of  the  latter  has  never  been  adequately  cul¬ 
tivated  by  training  and  instruction.  The  intellects  of 
each  have  been  exposed  to  opposite  disadvantages.  The 
organizations  of  neither  class  are  the  best  in  the  commu- 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


129 


nity;  the  constitutions  of  neither  are  the  soundest  or 
most  untainted.  Yet  these  two  classes  are  precisely 
those  which  are,  or  are  likely  to  he,  preponderatingly,  the 
fathers  of  the  coining  generation.  Both  marry  as  early  as 
they  please  and  have  as  many  children  as  they  please,  — 
the  rich  because  it  is  in  their  power,  the  poor  because 
they  have  no  motive  for  abstinence ;  and  scanty  food  and 
hard  circumstances  do  not  oppose  but  rather  encourage 
procreation.  Malthus’s  “prudential  check ”  rarely  oper¬ 
ates  upon  the  lowest  classes  ;  the  poorer  they  are,  usually, 
the  faster  do  they  multiply ;  certainly  the  more  reckless 
they  are  in  reference  to  multiplication.  It  is  the  middle 
classes,  those  who  form  the  energetic,  reliable,  improving 
element  of  the  population,  those  who  wish  to  rise  and  do 
not  choose  to  sink,  those  in  a  word  who  constitute  the 
true  strength  and  wealth  and  dignity  of  nations,  —  it  is 
these  who  abstain  from  marriage  or  postpone  it.*  Thus 
the  imprudent,  the  desperate,  —  those  whose  standard  is 
low,  those  who  have  no  hope,  no  ambition,  no  self-denial, 
—  on  the  one  side,  and  the  pampered  favorites  of  fortune 
on  the  other,  take  precedence  in  the  race  of  fatherhood, 
to  the  disadvantage  or  the  exclusion  of  the  prudent,  the 
resolute,  the  striving,  and  the  self-restrained.  The  very 

*  GaltoiTs  “  Hereditary  Genius,”  p.  352.  “  Certain  influences 

retard  the  average  age  of  marriage  while  others  hasten  it . The 

wisest  policy  is  that  which  results  in  retarding  the  average  age  of 
marriage  among  the  weak,  and  hastening  it  among  the  vigorous 
classes  ;  whereas,  most  unhappily  for  us,  the  influence  of  numerous 
social  influences  has  been  strongly  and  banefully  exerted,  in  our 
community  at  least,  in  precisely  the  opposite  direction.” 


130 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


men  whom  a  philosophic  statesman  or  a  guide  of  some 
superior  nature  would  select  as  most  qualified  and  deserv¬ 
ing  to  continue  the  race,  are  precisely  those  who  do  so  in 
the  scantiest  measure.*  Those  who  have  no  need  for 
exertion,  and  those  who  have  no  opportunities  for  culture, 
those  whose  frames  are  damaged  by  indulgence,  and  those 
whose  frames  are  weakened  by  privation,  breed  ad  libitum ; 
while  those  whose  minds  and  bodies  have  been  hardened, 
strengthened,  and  purified  by  temperance  and  toil,  are 
elbowed  quietly  aside  in  the  unequal  press.  Surely  the 

*  Those  who  may  he  disposed  to  make  light  of  the  injurious 
operation,  on  the  well-being  of  a  community  or  the  improvement  of 
the  race,  of  this  positive  or  comparative  abstention  from  the  func¬ 
tions  of  paternity  on  the  part  of  the  true  elite  of  a  people,  would  do 
well  to  study  Mr.  Galton’s  picture  of  the  effect  of  two  analogous 
facts  on  the  progress  of  Europe  during  the  Middle  Ages.  In  his 
rich  and  suggestive  book  on  “  Hereditary  Genius  ”  (pp.  357  -  359) 
he  points  how  effectually,  though  unintentionally,  “the  Church 
brutalized  and  demoralized  the  breed  of  our  forefathers,”  by,  in  the 
first  place,  condemning  to  celibacy  all  those  gentler,  kindlier,  more 
cultured  and  thoughtful  natures  who  sought  refuge  in  the  cloister 
in  those  troubled  times,  —  leaving  only  the  ruder  and  coarser  organ¬ 
izations  to  marry  and  multiply  ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  by  burn¬ 
ing  all  the  more  powerful,  free,  and  daring  thinkers  of  those  days, 
and  thus  as  far  as  possible  crushing  out  the  class.  “  Having  first 
captured  all  the  gentler  natures  and  condemned  them  to  celibacy, 
she  made  another  sweep  of  her  huge  nets  —  this  time  fishing  in 
troubled  waters  —  to  catch  those  who  were  the  most  fearless,  truth- 
loving,  and  intelligent  in  their .  modes  of  thought,  and  therefore  the 
most  suitable  parents  of  a  li'gh  civilization ,  and  put  a  strong  check, 
if  not  a  direct  stop  to  their  progeny.  Those  she  reserved,  as  it  were, 
to  breed  the  generations  of  the  future,  were  the  rough  and  ferocious, 
or  the  servile,  the  indifferent,  and  the  stupid.” 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


131 


“  selection  ”  is  no  longer  “  natural.”  The  careless,  squalid, 
unaspiring  Irishman,  feci  on  potatoes,  living  in  a  pigsty, 
doting  on  a  superstition,  multiplies  like  rabbits  or  ephem¬ 
era  :  the  frugal,  foreseeing,  self-respecting,  ambitious 
Scot,  stern  in  his  morality,  spiritual  in  his  faith,  saga¬ 
cious  and  disciplined  in  his  intelligence,  passes  his  best 
years  in  struggle  and  in  celibacy,  marries  late,  and  leaves 
few  behind  him.  Given  a  land  originally  peopled  by  a 
thousand  Saxons  and  a  thousand  Celts,  —  and  in  a  dozen 
generations,  five  sixths  of  the  population  would  be  Celts, 
but  five  sixths  of  the  property,  the  power,  and  the  intel¬ 
lect  would  belong  to  the  one  sixth  of  Saxons  that  re¬ 
mained.  In  the  eternal  “  struggle  for  existence,”  it  would 
be  the  inferior  and  less  favored  race  that  had  prevailed,  — 
and  prevailed  by  virtue,  not  of  its  qualities,  but  of  its 
faults,  by  reason,  not  of  its  stronger  vitality,  but  of  its 
weaker  reticence  and  its  narrower  brain. 

Of  course  it  will  be  urged  that  the  principle  of  natural 
selection  fails  thus  utterly  because  our  civilization  is  im¬ 
perfect  and  misdirected  ;  because  our  laws  are  insufficient ; 
because  our  social  arrangements  are  unwise  ;  because  our 
moral  sense  is  languid  or  unenlightened.  No  doubt,  if  our 
legislators  and  rulers  were  quite  sagacious  and  quite  stern, 
and  our  people  in  all  ranks  quite  wise  and  good,  the  benefi¬ 
cent  tendencies  of  nature  would  continue  to  operate  un¬ 
counteracted.  No  constitutions  would  be  impaired  by 
insufficient  nutriment  and  none  by  unhealthy  excess.  No 
classes  would  be  so  undeveloped  either  in  mind  or  muscle 
as  to  be  unfitted  for  procreating  sound  and  vigorous  off- 


132 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


spring.  The  sick,  the  tainted,  and  the  maimed  would  be 
too  sensible  and  too  unselfish  to  dream  of  marrying  and 
handing  down  to  their  children  the  curse  of  diseased  or 
feeble  frames  ;  or  if  they  did  not  thus  control  themselves, 
the  state  would  exercise  a  salutary  but  unrelenting  paternal 
despotism,  and  supply  the  deficiency  by  vigilant  and  timely 
prohibition.  A  republic  is  conceivable  in  which  paupers 
should  be  forbidden  to  propagate  ;  in  which  all  candidates 
for  the  proud  and  solemn  privilege  of  continuing  an  un¬ 
tainted  and  perfecting  race  should  be  subjected  to  a  pass 
or  a  competitive  examination,  and  those  only  be  suffered  to 
transmit  their  names  and  families  to  future  generations 
who  had  a  pure,  vigorous,  and  well-developed  constitution 
to  transmit ;  so  that  paternity  should  be  the  right  and 
function  exclusively  of  the  elite  of  the  nation,  and  human¬ 
ity  be  thus  enabled  to  march  on  securely  and  without 
drawback  to  its  ultimate  possibilities  of  progress.  Every 
damaged  or  inferior  temperament  might  be  eliminated,  and 
every  special  and  superior  one  be  selected  and  enthroned, 
till  the  human  race, both  in  its  manhood  and  its  womanhood, 
became  one  glorious  fellowship  of  saints,  sages,  and  ath¬ 
letes  ;  till  we  were  all  Blondins,  all  Shakespeares,  Pericleses, 
Socrateses,  Columbuses,  and  Fenelons.  But  no  nation —  in 
modern  times  at  least  —  has  ever  yet  approached  or  aimed 
at  this  ideal ;  no  such  wisdom  or  virtue  has  ever  been 
found  except  in  isolated  individual  instances  ;  no  govern¬ 
ment  and  no  statesman  has  ever  yet  dared  thus  to  supple¬ 
ment  the  inadequacy  of  personal  patriotism  by  laws  so 
sapiently  despotic.  The  faces  of  the  leading  peoples  of  the 
existing  world  are  not  even  set  in  this  direction, —  at  pres- 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


ent  notably  the  reverse.  The  more  marked  tendencies  of 
the  age  are  three ;  and  all  three  run  counter  to  the  opera¬ 
tion  of  the  wholesome  law  of  “  natural  selection.”  We  are 
learning  to  insist  more  and  more  on  the  freedom  of  the 
individual  will,  the  right  of  every  one  to  judge  and  act 
for  himself.  We  are  growing  daily  more  foolishly  and 
criminally  lenient  to  every  natural  propensity,  less  and 
less  inclined  to  resent,  or  control,  or  punish  its  indulgence. 
We  absolutely  refuse  to  let  the  poor,  the  incapable,  the 
lazy,  or  the  diseased  die  ;  we  enable  or  allow  them,  if  we 
do  not  actually  encourage  them,  to  propagate  their  inca¬ 
pacity,  poverty,  and  constitutional  disorders.  And,  lastly, 
democracy  is  every  year  advancing  in  power,  and  claiming 
the  supreme  right  to  govern  and  to  guide  ;  and  democracy 
means  the  management  and  control  of  social  arrangements 
by  the  least  educated  classes,  —  by  those  least,  trained  to 
foresee  or  measure  consequences,  —  least  acquainted  with 
the  fearfully  rigid  laws  of  hereditary  transmission,  —  least 
habituated  to  repress  desires,  or  to  forego  immediate  enjoy¬ 
ment  for  future  and  remote  good. 

Obviously,  no  artificial  prohibitions  or  restraints,  no 
laws  imposed  from  above  and  from  without,  can  restore 
the  principle  of  “  natural  selection  ”  to  its  due  supremacy 
among  the  human  race.  No  people  in  our  days  would  en¬ 
dure  the  necessary  interference  and  control ;  and  perhaps 
a  result  so  acquired  might  not  be  worth  the  cost  of  acqui¬ 
sition.  We  can  only  trust  to  the  slow  influences  of  enlight¬ 
enment  and  moral  susceptibility,  percolating  downwards 
and  in  time  permeating  all  ranks.  We  can  only  watch 
and  be  careful  that  any  other  influences  we  do  set  in 


134 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


motion  shall  be  such  as,  where  they  work  at  all,  may  work 
in  the  right  direction.  At  present  the  prospect  is  not 
reassuring.  We  are  progressing  fast  in  many  points,  no 
doubt,  but  the  progress  is  not  wholly  nor  always  of  the 
right  sort,  nor  without  a  large  per  contra.  Legislation  and 
philanthropy  are  improving  the  condition  of  the  masses,, 
but  they  are  more  and  more  losing  the  guidance  and  gov¬ 
ernance  of  the  masses.  Wealth  accumulates  above,  and 
wages  rise  below ;  but  the  cost  of  living  augments  with 
both  operations,  till  those  classes  —  the  stamina  of  the 
nation  —  which  are  neither  too  rich  nor  too  poor  to  fear 
a  fall,  find  marriage  a  hazardous  adventure,  and  dread  the 
burden  of  large  families.  Medical  science  is  mitigating 
suffering,  and  achieving  some  success  in  its  warfare  against 
disease ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  enables  the  diseased  to 
live.  It  controls  and  sometimes  half  cures  the  maladies 
that  spring  from  profligacy  and  excess,  but  in  so  doing 
it  encourages  both,  by  stepping  in  between  the  cause  and 
its  consequence,  and  saving  them  from  their  natural  and 
deterring  penalties.  It  reduces  the  aggregate  mortality  by 
sanitary  improvements  and  precautions  ;  but  those  whom 
it  saves  from  dying  prematurely  it  preserves  to  propagate 
dismal  and  imperfect  lives.  In  our  complicated  modern 
communities  a  race  is  being  run  between  moral  and  mental 
enlightenment  and  the  deterioration  of  the  physical  and 
moral  constitution  through  the  defeasance  of  the  law  of 
natural  selection ;  and  on  the  issues  of  that  race  the  des¬ 
tinies  of  humanity  depend. 


Mr.  Francis  Galton  (who  had  followed  the  same  line  of 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


135 


thought  as  myself,  though  both,  till  after  the  publication 
of  our  respective  speculations,  were  unacquainted  with  the 
other’s  writings)  estimates,  almost  more  gravely  than  I 
have  done,  the  mischief  and  the  menace  of  this  tendency 
of  civilized  nations  to  multiply  from  their  lower  speci¬ 
mens.  He  condemns  “  the  Peerage  as  a  disastrous  insti¬ 
tution,  owing  to  its  destructive  effects  on  our  valuable 
races.  The  most  highly  gifted  men  are  ennobled ;  their 
elder  sons  are  tempted  [for  the  sake  of  means  to  keep  up 
their  titles]  to  marry  heiresses  [who  are  habitually  sterile] ; 
and  their  younger  sons  do  not  marry  at  all,  not  having 
fortune  enough  to  support  both  a  family  and  an  aristocratic 
position.  So  the  side-shoots  of  the  genealogical  tree  are 
hacked  off,  the  leading  shoot  is  blighted,  and  the  breed  is 
lost  forever.”  ....  Further  on  he  says  :  “  It  is  a  maxim 
of  Malthus  that  the  period  of  marriage  ought  to  be  de¬ 
layed  in  order  that  the  earth  may  not  be  overcrowded  by  a 
population  for  whom  there  is  no  place  at  all  at  the  great 
table  of  Nature.  If  this  doctrine  influenced  all  classes 
alike,  I  should  have  nothing  to  say  about  it  here,  one  way 
or  the  other,  as  it  would  hardly  affect  the  discussions  in 
this  book ;  but  when  it  is  put  forward  as  a  rule  of  conduct 
for  the  prudent  part  of  mankind  to  follow,  whilst  the  im¬ 
prudent  are  necessarily  left  free  to  disregard  it,  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  saying  that  it  is  a  most  pernicious  rule  of 
conduct  in  its  bearing  on  the  race.  Its  effects  would  be 
to  cause  the  race  of  the  prudent  to  fall,  after  a  few  cen¬ 
turies,  into  an  almost  incredible  numerical  inferiority  to 
that  of  the  imprudent,  and  therefore  to  bring  utter  ruin 
upon  the  breed  of  any  country  where  the  doctrine  pre- 


136 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


vailed.  I  protest  against  the  abler  races  being  encouraged 
to  withdraw  in  this  way  from  the  struggle  for  existence. 
It  may  seem  monstrous  that  the  weak  should  be  crowded 
out  by  the  strong,  but  it  is  still  more  monstrous  that  the 
races  best  fitted  to  play  their  part  on  the  stage  of  life 
should  be  crowded  out  by  the  incompetent,  the  ailing,  and 
the  feeble.” 

Mr.  Galton  gives  us  a  sort  of  formula  by  which  we  may 
form  some  faint  conception  of  the  magnitude  of  the  evil 
thus  wrought  —  or  likely  to  be  wrought  —  by  the  opera¬ 
tion  of  this  doctrine.  He  points  out  that  —  of  two  classes 
in  a  community  starting  with  equal  numbers,  but  one  class 
marrying  habitually  at  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  the 
other  at  thirty-three  years  —  the  first  class  will,  in  less 
than  a  century,  be  twice  as  numerous,  and  in  two  centuries 
six  times  as  numerous,  as  the  second.  We  have  only  to 
follow  out  this  thought,  and  picture  to  ourselves,  if  imagi¬ 
nation  is  equal  to  the  task,  the  contrast  between  two  com¬ 
munities  at  the  end  of  either  period,  one  a  nation  where 
the  early  marrying  class  had  been  the  educated,  the  tem¬ 
perate,  the  energetic,  and  the  self-restrained  ;  and  the  other 
a  nation  where  this  class  had  consisted  of  the  reckless,  the 
indolent,  the  vicious,  and  the  diseased.  The  latter  would 
probably  have  degenerated  nearly  to  the  race  of  Papuans  ; 
the  former  might  have  surpassed  even  the  Athenians  in 
their  palmiest  days  * 

*  Mr.  Galton  (p.  361)  has  a  passage  which  suggests  a  wide  and 
fertile  field  of  investigation,  —  namely,  how  far  the  decay  of  old 
civilizations  (one  of  the  perplexing  phenomena  of  history)  may  be 
traceable  to  the  circumstance  we  have  been  considering.  “  In  an  old 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST.  137 

Mr.  Darwin,*  who  has  done  me  the  honor  to  quote 
a  monograph  which  I  wrote  four  or  live  years  ago  on 
this  subject,  equally  regards  the  operation  in  question  as 
a  most  serious  one ;  and  though  he  mentions  a  number 
of  compensating  influences,  he  evidently  does  not  con¬ 
sider  them  as  at  all  adequate  or  effectual.  “  With  sav- 

civilization  the  agencies  are  more  complex.  Among  the  active,  am¬ 
bitious  classes  none  but  the  inheritors  of  fortune  are  likely  to  marry 
young.  Those  whose  future  fortune  is  not  insured  can  scarcely  suc¬ 
ceed  well  and  rise  high  in  society,  if  they  hamper  themselves  with  a 

wife  and  children  in  their  early  manhood . Thence  result  the 

evils  I  have  already  described,  in  speaking  of  the  marriages  of  eldest 
sons  with  heiresses,  and  of  the  suppression  of  the  marriages  of  the 
younger  sons.  Again,  there  is  a  constant  tendency  of  the  best  men 
in  a  country  to  settle  in  the  great  cities,  where  marriages  are  less  pro¬ 
lific,  and  children  less  likely  to  live.  Owing  to  these  several  causes, 
there  is  a  steady  check  in  an  old  civilization  on  the  fertility  of  the  abler 
classes  :  the  improvident  and  unambitious  are  those  who  chiefly  keep  up 
the  breed.  So  the  race  gradually  degenerates ,  becoming  with  each  succes¬ 
sive  generation  less  fitted  for  a  high  civilization ,  although  it  retains  the 
external  appearances  of  one  :  until  the  time  comes  when  the  whole 
political  and  social  fabric  caves  in ,  and  a  greater  or  less  relapse  to¬ 
wards  barbarism  takes  place.”  I  have  long  been  convinced  that  the 
startling  contrast  between  the  France  of  to-day  and  the  France  of  one 
or  two  centuries  ago,  is  in  a  vast  measure  due  to  the  dying  (or  killing) 
out  of  the  old  Frankish  and  Norman  elements,  and  the  growing  pre¬ 
dominance  of  the  Celtic  one.  Probably  the  equally  startling  differ¬ 
ence  between  the  America  of  Washington  and  the  America  of  An¬ 
drew  Johnson  may  be  greatly  traced  to  the  immigration  of  old  days 
consisting  of  Cavaliers  and  Pilgrim  Fathers,  and  the  recent  immigra¬ 
tion  being  made  up  of  Irish  cottiers  and  German  boors,  and  loose  or 
criminal  fugitives  from  everywhere. 

*  “  Descent  of  Man,”  I.  p.  168. 


138 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


ages,  the  weak  in  body  or  mind  are  soon  eliminated ; 
and  those  that  survive  commonly  exhibit  a  vigorous 
state  of  health.  TV e  civilized  men ,  on  the  other  hand,  do 
our  utmost  to  check  the  process  of  elimination ;  we  build 
asylums  for  the  imbecile,  the  maimed,  and  the  sick ;  we 
institute  poor-laws  ;  and  our  medical  men  exert  their 
greatest  skill  to  save  the  life  of  every  one  to  the  last 
moment.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  vaccination 
has  preserved  thousands,  who,  from  a  weak  constitution, 
would  formerly  have  succumbed  to  small-pox.  Thus 
the  weak  members  of  civilized  societies  propagate  their 
kind.  No  one  who  has  attended  to  the  breeding  of 
domestic  animals  will  doubt  that  this  must  be  highly 
injurious  to  the  race.  It  is  surprising  how  soon  a  want 
of  care,  or  care  wrongly  directed,  leads  to  the  degener¬ 
ation  of  a  domestic  race :  but,  excepting  in  the  case  of 
man  himself,  hardly  any  one  is  so  ignorant  as  to  allow 
his  worst  animals  to  breed  ” 

It  cannot  be  denied  then  that  the  tendency,  in  commu¬ 
nities  of  advanced  and  complicated  civilization,  to  multiply 
from  their  lower  rather  than  their  higher  specimens,  con¬ 
stitutes  one  of  the  most  formidable  dangers  with  which 
that  civilization  is  threatened  ;  and,  if  not  counterworked 
in  time,  must  bring  about  eventually  the  physical,  and 
along  with  that  the  moral  and  intellectual  deterioration  of 
the  race.  But  in  civilization  itself  —  in  the  spreading  in¬ 
telligence,  in  the  matured  wisdom,  in  the  ripened  self- 
control,  in  the  social  virtues,  which  civilization  nurtures 
and  in  which  it  ought  to  culminate  —  may  be  found,  ought 
to  be  found,  and,  we  hope,  will  be  found,  the  counteracting 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


139 


influences  required.  A  few  of  these  may  be  briefly  inti¬ 
mated.  The  longer  lives,  the  sounder  health,  the  smaller 
mortality  in  infancy,  among  the  better  classes  (using  the 
word  “  better  ”  to  include  all  the  elements  of  true  superior¬ 
ity),  will  do  something  to  antagonize  the  greater  fertility 
of  the  inferior.  As  political  wisdom  improves,  forced  upon 
us  by  increasing  social  perils,  by  severe  experience,  and  by 
exhaustive  error,  I  consider  that  pauperism  —  and  with  it 
the  propagation  of  paupers  —  will  be  nearly  extinguished 
by  the  control  and  organization  of  charity,  and  the  ulti¬ 
mate  abolition  of  compulsory  poor-rates.  Even  now  we 
are  beginning,  at  least,  to  look  in  that  direction  ;  and,  as  I 
pointed  out  in  the  first  chapter,  pauperism  is  the  result  of 
our  fostering,  if  not  actually  our  own  creation.  I  notice 
that  there  are  countries  in  which  it  exists  in  a  very  miti¬ 
gated  form,  even  if  at  all.  I  do  not  think  it  over-sanguine 
to  anticipate  the  time  when  wealth,  under  wider  views 
of  economic  science,  may  be  far  more  equitably  and  be¬ 
neficently  distributed  than  now.  We  may  conceive  even, 
and  should  aspire  after,  such  a  rational  and  sober  simpli¬ 
city  of  living,  that  marriage  would  become  prudent  and  easy 
to  thousands  of  the  middle  and  upper  classes,  to  whom  it 
now  seems  an  absolute  impossibility.  The  higher  orders 
of  society  would  become  less  extravagantly  provident  as 
the  lower  orders  learned  to  be  reasonably  so.  It  does  not 
seem  to  me  quite  unreasonable  to  hope  that  the  means,  or 
at  least  the  prospect,  of  being  able  to  maintain  children 
shall  be  regarded  practically  as  an  essential  prerequisite  to 
producing  them,  —  probably  under  the  control  of  an  en¬ 
lightened  social  opinion,  —  possibly,  as  is  not  unknown  in 


140 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


certain  continental  States.*  under  legal  pressure,  I  can¬ 
not  see  why,  —  when  the  working  classes  are  educated  in 
some  proportion  to  those  now  above  them,  and  possess 
property  of  their  own,  —  whether  in  acres,  or  consols,  or 
shares,  as  they  assuredly  may  do,  and  soon  will,-)*  —  they 
should  not  become  so  provident  and  so  well  conditioned, 
that  they  will  be  no  unfit  fathers  for  coming  generations. 
For  we  must  never  forget  that  it  is  not  poverty,  but  squa¬ 
lor,  —  not  a  hard  life,  but  insufficient  nutriment,  ■ —  not 
strenuous  bodily  exertion,  but  excessive  and  exhausting  toil, 
—  that  disqualify  men  from  transmitting  a  sound  physical 
and  mental  constitution  to  their  offspring.  A  sanified  city 
population  and  a  well-fed  agricultural  population  may  be 
not  only  a  wholesome  but  a  necessary  element  to  share  the 
functions  of  paternity  with  the  more  elaborately  prudent 
and  cerebrally  over-developed  classes  higher  in  the  social 
scale.  Lastly,  I  look  forward  to  a  not  very  distant  day, 
■when,  as  the  moral  tone  of  society  advances,  and  men  rise 
to  some  larger  and  more  vivid  perceptions  of  their  mutual 
obligations,  the  propagation  of  vitiated  constitutions,  as 
well  as  of  positive  disease,  will  be  universally  condemned 
as  culpable,  and  possibly  prohibited  as  criminal.  Some 
classes  and  communities  have  already,  from  time  to  time, 
reached  this  slight  rising-ground  in  social  virtue,  in  refer¬ 
ence  to  the  three  fearful  maladies  of  insanity,  leprosy,  and 
cretinism.  Surely  a  further  progress  in  knowledge  and 

*  Laing’s  “  Notes  of  a  Traveller.”  “  Travels  in  Sweden  and  Nor¬ 
way.” 

t  See  “Quarterly  Review,”  January,  1872,  “Proletariat  on  a 
False  Scent.” 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


141 


reflection,  and  a  somewhat  wider  range  of  sympathy,  may 
extend  the  list  to  scrofula,  syphilis,  and  consumption.  I 
can  discern  no  reason  —  beyond  our  own  halting  wisdom 
and  deficient  sense  of  right,  the  strange  ignorance  of  some 
classes,  and  the  stranger  senselessness  of  others,  our  utterly 
wonderful  and  persistent  errors  in  political  and  social  phi¬ 
losophy  in  nearly  every  line  —  why  a  very  few  generations 
should  not  have  nearly  eliminated  from  the  community 
those  who  ought  not  to  breed  at  all,  and  have  taught  pru¬ 
dence  to  those  who  ought  to  breed  only  in  moderate  and 
just  proportions. 

In  comparing  the  conclusions  arrived  at  in  this  chapter 
with  those  of  the  preceding  one,  a  certain  prima  facie 
inconsistency  is  observable,  which  must  not  be  evaded  or 
ignored.  If  that  gradual  decrease  in  fecundity  which,  in 
the  ripeness  of  time,  will  render  the  population  of  the 
earth  naturally  and  without  effort  stationary,  is  to  result, 
as  we  anticipate,  mainly  from  the  increased  culture  and 
development  of  brain  which  civilization  brings  about,  it 
seems  obvious  to  infer  that  such  decrease  will  take  place 
earliest  and  most  decidedlv  in  the  classes  and  races  most 
marked  by  cerebral  superiority,  that  is,  by  mental  power 
and  moral  pre-eminence.  If  the  cultivation  of  the  higher 
elements  of  humanity  has,  as  we  allege,  the  distinctive 
tendency,  in  the  long  run,  and  on  a  general  survey,  to 
retard  the  rate  of  increase  of  the  species,  then  this  retard¬ 
ing  operation  should  be  strong  and  manifest  in  proportion 
to  the  spread  of  that  cultivation,  and  in  those  quarters 
where  its  progress  and  predominance  are  most  undeniable. 


142 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


If  so,  the  tendency  of  man  in  the  more  civilized  stages 
of  society  to  multiply  rather  from  his  lower  than  his 
higher  forms,  which  in  this  chapter  we  have  been  deplor¬ 
ing  and  would  seek  to  check,  would  appear  to  be  not  only 
one  of  the  greatest  dangers  and  drawbacks  of  civilization, 
but  precisely  its  most  inevitable  issue  ;  and  the  very 
advance  of  improvement  and  cerebral  culture,  to  which 
we  look  ultimately  for  the  solution  of  the  problem  and 
the  perfection  of  the  race,  would  seem  to  negative  that 
prospect,  by  withdrawing,  pro  tccnto  and  pari  passu,  from 
the  privileges  of  paternity  the  best  qualified  portion  of 
the  community,  and  virtually  throwing  the  function  of 
continuing  the  race  mainly  upon  the  classes  least  capable 
of  transmitting  healthy  organizations  and  fine  intellects 
to  their  offspring.  If  the  superior  sections  and  speci¬ 
mens  of  humanity  are  to  lose  relatively  their  procrehtive 
power  in  virtue  of  and  in  proportion  to  that  superiority, 
how  is  culture  or  progress  to  be  propagated  so  as  to  benefit 
the  species  as  a  whole,  and  how  are  those  gradually 
amended  organizations  from  which  we  hope  so  much  to 
be  secured  ?  If,  indeed,  it  were  ignorance,  stupidity,  and 
destitution,  instead  of  mental  and  moral  development, 
that  were  the  sterilizing  influences,  then  the  improvement 
of  the  race  would  go  on  swimmingly,  and  in  an  ever- 
accelerating  ratio.  But  since  the  conditions  are  exactly 
reversed,  how' should  not  an  exactly  opposite  direction  be 
pursued  ?  How  should  the  race  not  deteriorate,  when 
those  who  morally  and  hygienically  are  fittest  to  perpet¬ 
uate  it  are  (relatively),  by  a  law  of  physiology,  those  least 
likely  to  do  so  ?  Does  it  not  appear  as  if  Nature  herself 


NON- SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


1 


4:0 


were  pursuing  a  pernicious  course,  precisely  analogous  to 
that  which  Mr.  Galton  attributes  to  the  Church  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  as  if  the  very  influence  which  we 
pointed  out  in  the  last  chapter  as  rendering  the  perfecta- 
tion  of  the  race  feasible,  must  have  a  distinctively  antag¬ 
onistic  operation  ? 

The  reply  to  the  foregoing  objection  is  simply  this  : 
in  the  preceding  chapter  we  were  considering  specifically 
the  influence  of  natural  laws,  more  or  less  occult,  but  all 
self-operating  and  involuntary ,  which  reduced  fecundity 
as  cerebral  development  advanced  and  spread.  In  the 
present  chapter  we  have  been  dealing  exclusively  with 
voluntary  human  influences,  with  the  operation  of  social 
tendencies  and  regulations  in  causing  an  abnormal  and 
not  natural  withdrawal  (relatively)  from  the  function  of 
perpetuating  the  race,  on  the  part  of  the  classes  fittest  for 
that  duty.  The  former  influence  will  work  out  its  benefi¬ 
cent  issues  gradually  and  in  the  fulness  of  time ;  the 
latter  is  operating  artificially  and  mischievously  under 
our  eyes.  True  culture,  as  it  spreads,  —  the  influence  of 
a  really  enlightened  civilization,  in  our  age  and  country,  — - 
ought  to  have  a  double  operation ;  in  the  creation,  on  one 
side,  of  a  class  of  healthy  and  educated  and  laborious, 
but  no  longer  stinted  poor,  whose  redundant  fertility  will 
be  controlled  at  once  by  greater  providence  and  more 
developed  brains,  and,  on  the  other  side,  in  the  growth  of 
wiser  and  more  right-minded  superior  classes,  estimating 
more  truly  the  vital  essentials  of  a  happy  and  worthy 
existence,  less  fearing  a  social  fall,  and  less  ambitious  of  a 
social  rise,  less  straitened  and  less  deterred  from  marriage 


144 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


than  at  present,  and  therefore  both  positively  and  rela¬ 
tively  more  prolific.  The  problem  of  progress  may  thus 
be  successfully  wrought  out,  in  perfect  conformity  with 
the  physiological  laws  we  had  assumed,  by  the  mitigated 
fecundity  of  the  multitude  in  proportion  to  their  culture 
and  social  elevation,  and  the  simultaneously  augmented 
fecundity  of  the  ranks  above  them,  as  they  learn  the  true 
philosophy  of  life. 

I  think  it  may  serve  the  elucidation  of  a  subject,  the  im¬ 
portance  of  which  can  scarcely  be  exaggerated,  if  I  subjoin 
here  a  criticism  by  one  of  our  subtlest  and  finest  thinkers, 
which  appeared  in  “  The  Spectator  ”  when  my  argument 
was  first  propounded,  as  well  as  my  rejoinder  :  — 

“  ....  No  doubt  the  laws  of  property  do  secure  to  a  vast  num¬ 
ber  the  means  of  living  and  of  giving  life  to  others  who  would  not 
seem  well  qualified  for  ‘  the  struggle  of  existence/  and  who  might 
have  succumbed  if  they  had  had  to  win  the  means  of  living  for  them¬ 
selves  by  shouldering  their  own  way  in  life.  Still,  not  only  does 
this  tell  as  strongly  for  the  energetic  who  inherit  as  for  the  dilettanti 
who  inherit,  not  only  does  it  leave  it  quite  as  certain  as  ever  that  those 
who  have  no  moral  capacity  to  rise  will  scarcely  fail  to  fall,  will  be 
quick  to  lose  their  inheritance  to  those  who  would  have  had  power 
to  gain  it,  —  not  only  is  this  so,  but  in  fact  this  transmission  of  a 
great  bulk  of  property  to  persons  not  well  fitted  to  make  or  save  it, 
is  a  necessary  condition  of  detecting  and  developing  capacities,  of 
the  first  value  to  our  race,  which  would  be  utterly  drowned  and  lost 
in  the  mere  conflict  for  material  sustenance.  N o  test  could  be  coarser 
or  more  ineffectual  of  the  sort  of  intellectual  and  moral  energy 
which  gives  value  to  life,  than  the  test  of  ability  to  win  money  with¬ 
out  the  help  of  accumulated  capital.  Such  a  test  would  put  out 
of  court  at  one  blow,  as  unfit  for  ‘the  struggle  of  existence/  three 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


145 


fourths  of  the  religious  teachers,  the  thinkers,  the  discoverers,  the 
poets,  the  artists,  the  philanthropists,  the  reformers.  If  we  are  to 
assume  that  all  who  inherit  are  drones,  unless  they  show  the  power 
to  win  what  they  inherit,  we  should  have  to  assume  that  there  is  no 
true  sort  of  energy  at  all,  except  it  admits  of  diversion  into  a  chan¬ 
nel  wherein  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence  could  be  rapidly  accumu¬ 
lated.  And  it  is  obvious  enough  that  such  a  test  would  be  quite  false. 

“  Still,  what  we  have  said  as  yet  is  but  preliminary  to  the  true 
answer  to  the  essayist  we  refer  to.  The  real  answer  to  him  is  this, 
—  that  directly  you  reach  man  in  the  ascending  stages  of  animal 
life,  you  reach  a  point  where  the  competitive  principle  of  ‘  natural 
selection ;  is  more  or  less  superseded  by  a  higher  principle,  of  which 
the  key-note  is  not,  ‘  Let  the  strong  trample  out  the  weak/  but,  ‘  Let 
the  strong  sacrifice  themselves  for  the  weak.’  This  is  really  the  law 
of  supernatural  selection,  as  distinguished  from  the  law  which  gov¬ 
erns  the  selection  of  races  in  the  lower  animal  world.  It  is  from 
reverence  for  this  law  that  men  value  so  highly  the  healing  art  which 
helps  us  to  restore  the  weak  instead  of  to  trample  them  out,  —  the 
arts  of  political  organization  which  teach  us  to  feed  and  clothe  those 
who  are,  without  their  own  fault,  hungry  and  naked,  instead  of  to 
leave  them  to  destruction,  —  the  charitv  which  bestows  a  new  lan- 
guage  on  the  dumb,  teaches  the  blind  to  see  with  their  fingers,  bright¬ 
ens  the  hopeless  fate  even  of  the  idiotic  and  the  insane,  nay,  reforms 
even  criminals  if  it  be  possible,  instead  of  exterminating  them.  The 
history  of  all  Christian  and  many  other  churches  is  at  bottom  little 
but  the  history  of  the  growth  of  human  reverence  for  that  law  of 
supernatural  selection  which  supersedes  the  law  ruling  in  the  merely 
animal  world.  If  we  are  to  complain  that  the  Darwinian  theorem 
does  not  apply  to  man,  we  are  complaining  that  we  are  in  the  truest 
sense  men  at  all.  The  law  of  self-sacrifice,  the  law  of  the  Cross,  the 
law  the  religious  root  of  which  lies  in  the  teaching  that  One,  ‘  being 
in  the  form  of  God/  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon 
himself  the  form  of  a  servant,  to  raise  creatures  infinitely  below 
Himself  up  to  His  own  level,  to  give  them  of  His  life,  and  breathe 
into  them  His  spirit,  is  in  its  very  essence  and  conception  a  reversal 

7 


J 


146 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


of  the  law  of  4  natural  selection/  at  least  so  far  as  man  dreams  of 
making  himself  in  purpose  and  in  spirit  the  executioner  of  that  law. 
Christ  tells  us  not  to  help  to  extinguish  poor  and  maimed  and  blighted 
forms  of  life,  lest  they  spoil  the  breed,  but  to  have  faith  that  every 
act  of  wise  self-sacrifice,  that  is,  every  transfer  of  blessings  from  the 
strong,  happy,  or  wealthy,  who  can  spare  them,  to  the  weak,  miser¬ 
able,  or  poor  who  might  otherwise  dwindle  and  perish,  is  a  vindica¬ 
tion  of  that  higher  law  of  supernatural  selection,  by  virtue  of  which  * 
the  4  weak  things  of  the  world  confound  the  mighty,  and  the  things 
which  are  not  bring  to  naught  the  things  which  are/ 

44  But  then  how  far  is  this  reversal  of  the  Darwinian  law  of  4  con¬ 
flict  for  existence/  in  the  life  of  man,  a  true  abrogation  of  the 
4  Providential  ’  principle,  as  our  essayist  calls  it,  which  secures  a 
gradual  amelioration  of  the  organisms  of  the  animal  world  ?  Can 
we  properly  say  that  the  principle  of  competition,  so  far  as  it 
secures  the  recognition  of  every  new  faculty,  and  the  appropriate 
reward  of  strength  and  industry  and  ingenuity  and  invention  is 
not  wanted,  and  not  in  the  highest  degree  beneficent,  in  the  human 
world  as  well  as  the  world  below  it  ?  If  not,  where  are  we  to  draw 
the  line  ?  Where  does  the  Darwinian  principle  end,  and  the  Chris¬ 
tian  begin  ?  Where  does  it  cease  to  be  mischievous,  to  give  aid  to 
lower  forms  of  life  which  we  should  be  glad  in  the  abstract  to  see 
disappear  ?  Where  does  it  become  beneficent  to  lend  artificial 
succor  to  those  who  may  transmit  the  seeds  of  misery  and  even 
crime  to  distant  generations  1  Of  course  these  are  questions  by  no 
means  easy  to  answer.  Each  one  must  try  and  answer  them  for 
himself.  But  it  is  easy  to  perceive  that,  judging  even  by  the  cold¬ 
est  light  of  reason,  the  race  would  lose  infinitely  more  of  greatness, 
of  energy,  of  variety  of  activity,  of  mental  and  moral  stimulus  of 
every  kind,  by  the  extinction  of  the  principle  of  self-sacrifice,  by 
the  rigid  application  of  the  animal  law  of  natural  selection  to  human 
affairs  and  purposes,  than  it  could  possibly  gain  in  purity  of  breed. 
In  fact,  there  would  be  no  room  at  all  left  for  the  highest  disposi¬ 
tions  which  we  hope  to  see  transmitted  to  our  children,  if  the 
4  catch- who-can  ’  principle  of  natural  selection  is  to  govern  the 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


147 


conscience  and  inform  the  motives  of  men.  In  endeavoring  to 
purify  the  breed,  we  should  at  once  extinguish  every  character  of 
the  highest  calibre,  and  make  the  breed  no  longer  worth  a  future 
destiny  at  all.  In  pushing  on  the  competitive  principle,  pure  and 
simple,  beyond  its  legitimate  point,  and  making  it  supreme  over 
the  life  of  a  being  capable  of  self-sacrifice,  we  should  only  degrade 
man  to  the  level  next  beneath  him,  and  cut  off  at  a  blow  the  last 
upward  step  of  his  progress.  Indeed,  whatever  risk  there  is  of 
artificially  preserving  and  perpetuating  low  types  of  humanity  by 
our. charitable  institutions  and  the  higher  principles  of  our  civiliza¬ 
tion,  there  is  infinitely  more  risk  of  failing  to  preserve  and  perpet¬ 
uate  that  very  highest  of  all  types  of  life  which  cares  more  to  draw 
up  those  beneath  it  than  even  to  climb  itself,  —  or  rather  which 
climbs  itself  by  virtue,  chiefly,  of  the  endeavor  to  draw  up  those 
beneath  it.  Grant,  if  you  will,  that  the  true  physician  may  some¬ 
times  save  from  extinction  a  life  which  propagates  the  seeds  of 
crime  and  suffering.  Grant,  if  you  will,  that  the  giver  who  saves 
the  wretched  from  destruction  may  sometimes  have  lent  a  helping 
hand  to  physical  and  moral  mediocrities  whose  posterity  will  start 
from  a  very  low  level  of  natural  advantage.  Still  you  cannot  arrest 
the  hand  of  either,  without  arresting  an  infinitely  grander  stimulus 
to  all  the  higher  human  energies,  —  intellectual  no  less  than  moral, 
—  than  can  for  a  moment  be  compared  with  the  loss  which  may 
result  from  the  perpetuation  of  some  low  types  of  organization. 
The  higher  virtues,  or  rather  the  characteristic  impulses  and  dispo¬ 
sitions  in  which  they  are  rooted,  are  amongst  the  most  transmissible 
of  hereditary  moral  qualities.  The  children  of  the  purely  selfish 
start  from  a  selfish  basis  of  character.  The  children  of  the  self- 
denying  start  from  a  freer  and  nobler  capacity  for  impulse.  En¬ 
throne  the  principle  of  natural  selection,  and  even  if  you  succeed 
in  diminishing  the  number  of  transmitted  mischiefs,  you  diminish 
infinitely  more  the  number  of  transmitted  goods.  The  plan  of  God 
seems  to  be  to  ennoble  the  higher  part  of  His  universe  at  least,  not 
so  much  by  eliminating  imperfection,  as  by  multiplying  graces  and 
virtues.  He  balances  the  new  evils  peculiar  to  human  life  by  infi- 


148 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


nitely  greater  weights  in  the  scale  of  the  good  which  is  also  peculiar 
to  human  life.  ‘Natural  selection  ’  has  its  place  and  its  function, 
doubtless,  even  amongst  us.  But  over  it,  and  high  above  it,  is 
growing  up  a  principle  of  supernatural  selection,  by  our  free  par¬ 
ticipation  in  which  we  can  alone  become  brethren  of  Christ  and 
children  of  God.” 

My  rejoinder  was  as  follows  :  — 

Some  of  the  criticisms  in  the  first  part  of  your  paper  I 
accept  and  acquiesce  in.  My  argument,  I  know,  was 
stated  broadly,  and,  perhaps,  too  extremely,  in  somewhat 
harsh  outline,  and,  as  it  were,  without  atmosphere.  But  I 
believe  this  is  the  best  plan,  in  the  first  instance,  at  least ; 
it  arrests  attention  and  makes  the  meaning  clear,  and 
enables  readers  to  judge  whether  the  main  essence  of  the 
thesis  is  correct  or  not.  Modifications  and  limitations 
come  afterwards,  and  from  other  quarters ;  and  some  of 
these  you  have  helped  to  supply.  But  I  do  not  think  — 
and  I  infer  that  you  scarcely  think  yourself — that  you 
have  materially  invalidated  my  chief  position,  which  is, 
that  civilization  and  humanity  —  our  tenderness  to  life 
and  our  respect  for  property  —  have,  amid  their  many 
beneficent  and  elevating  influences,  the  mischievous  oper¬ 
ation  of  preserving,  placing  in  situations  of  advantage, 
and  enabling  to  perpetuate  themselves  classes,  individ¬ 
uals,  and  types  of  organization  at  once  imperfect,  degraded, 
feeble,  and  diseased,  in  their  moral  and  intellectual  as 
well  as  physical  characteristics. 

Now,  this  I  hold  to  be  a  grave  evil ;  you,  on  the  con¬ 
trary,  with  your  inveterate  disposition  to  look  at  every 
subject  through  the  misty  medium  of  morals,  maintain  it 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


149 


to  be  a  great  good.  You  argue  that  the  exercise  and  dis¬ 
cipline  which  these  damaged  and  diseased  organizations 
afford  to  healthier  and  higher  ones,  in  relieving  their  suf¬ 
ferings,  bearing  with  their  infirmities,  improving  their 
condition,  —  “  strength  sacrificing  itself  to  weakness,”  in 
short,  —  on  the  whole  and  in  the  end  cultivate  and  create 
a  nobler  average  type  of  humanity  than  would  have  ex¬ 
isted  were  these  faulty  and  bad  specimens  trampled  out 
or  suffered  to  die  out,  as  they  would  do  in  a  state  of 
nature.  Well,  it  is  an  arguable  position,  no  doubt,  and 
has  an  air  of  disinterestedness  and  religious  elevation 
which  will  throw  fascination  round  it  for  many  minds, 
and  carry  conviction  to  some.  But  let  us  state  it  broadly 
and  without  the  halo  which  your  language  throws  round 
it,  and  follow  it  out  into  a  few  of  its  applications.  Strip 
it  naked,  and  see  how  it  looks  then.  To  judge  of  the 
symmetry  or  non-symmetry  of  a  form  or  figure,  you  must 
relieve  it  of  all  disguising  drapery  or  tinted  clouds  which 
may  conceal  any  defects  and  suggest  any  beauties.  To 
estimate  the  correctness  of  a  logical  position,  you  must 
see  if  it  will  bear  being  announced  in  a  positive,  if  not 
extreme  shape,  and  in  perfectly  plain  and  unattractive,  if 
not  cynically  harsh  terms.  Men  fight  best,  at  least  they 
ascertain  most  speedily  and  certainly  which  is  strongest, 
when  thev  fight  in  the  closest  conflict,  and  neither  give 

%J  o 

nor  take  quarter. 

I  fully  admit  that  what  we  want  for  the  human  race  is 
not  simply  nor  chiefly  the  strongest  and  healthiest  physi¬ 
cal  type,  but  the  highest  and  noblest  physical,  intel¬ 
lectual,  and  moral  type  combined,  that  can  by  all  material 


150 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  psychological  influences  be  produced.  I  fully  recog¬ 
nize,  also,  that  the  existence  of  misery  to  be  relieved,  of 
sufferings  to  be  sympathized  with,  of  weakness  to  be 
borne  with,  of  poverty  to  be  assisted,  of  diseases  to  be 
treated,  of  degradation  to  be  raised,  is  a  most  efficient, 
nay,  perhaps  an  absolutely  necessary  instrument  for  the 
education  and  development  of  the  best  portions  of  our 
nature,  and  for  bringing  man  up  to  the  highest  perfection 
that  he  is  capable  of  attaining.  But  then  I  hold  that  it 
is  by  curing  disease,  by  eradicating  wretchedness,  by  pre¬ 
cluding  poverty,  by  preventing  suffering,  that  the  needed 
moral  discipline  is  to  be  sought  and  gained ;  not  by  per¬ 
petuating  these  evils,  or  permitting  them  to  propagate 
themselves.  I  would  seek  the  perfectation  of  the  race 
by  the  extermination,  so  far  as  possible,  of  these  things. 
You,  or  at  least  your  argument,  would  maintain  these 
things,  or  welcome  their  maintenance,  for  the  education 
of  the  race.  I  would  establish  hospitals  to  extinguish 
maladies ;  you  would  establish  them  to  instruct  physi¬ 
cians,  to  train  nurses,  to  exercise  the  charity  of  sub¬ 
scribers.  I  would  discourage  and  eradicate  (not  “  stamp 
out  ”)  the  hopeless  pauper,  the  congenitally  morbid,  the 
incurably  idiotic  or  defective,  —  all  degraded  types,  in 
short ;  you  would  treat  them  tenderly,  as  “  dispensations  ” 
sent  for  our  good,  as  whetstones  for  our  virtue  to  sharpen 
itself  upon,  and  allow  them  to  multiply  other  “  dispensa¬ 
tions”  like  themselves.  As  the  ascetic  fakir  rejoices 
when  he  can  devise  a  new  torment  to  exercise  the  spirit 
and  mortify  the  flesh,  so  your  self-sacrificing  theory  would 
hail  with  joy  the  advent  and  multiplication  of  a  one- 


NON-SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST. 


151 


armed  or  one-eyed  family  in  the  human  race,  in  order 
that  the  more  perfect  human  beings  with  two  arms  and 
two  eyes  might  attain  moral  eminence  by  “  sacrificing 
themselves  ”  for  their  deficient  or  mutilated  brethren. 
Are  not  these  legitimate,  even  if  extreme,  inferences  from 
your  position  ? 

I  grant  without  reserve  what  you  urge,  viz.,  that  moral 
qualities  are  at  least  as  transmissible  by  inheritance  as 
physical  ones,  and,  therefore,  that  we  shall  best  further 
the  aggregate  and  ultimate  perfection  of  the  race  by  cul¬ 
tivating  those  moral  qualities  through  generous  effort  and 
self-denial.  There  will  always  be  enough  suffering  and 
evil  in  the  world  for  this  purpose  without  permitting 
inferior  and  diseased  organizations  to  propagate,  and  to 
propagate  par  preference.  But  what  I  pointed  out  as  so 
mischievous  and  mistaken  in  the  tendency  of  our  actual 
civilization  is,  that  those  classes  and  individuals  whose 
moral  excellences  have  been  most  cultivated  by  exertion 
and  self-control,  on  whom  the  loftier  influences  that  you 
so  value  have  wrought  their  perfect  work,  and  who,  there¬ 
fore,  are  precisely  the  men  and  women  whom  both  you  and 
I  would  wish  to  see  the  progenitors  of  the  future  race,  are 
precisely  those  who  are  not  so,  or  not  so  in  preponderating 
or  even  proportionate  measure,  and  (what  is  more  to  the 
purpose)  are  precisely  those  whom  your  doctrine  of  self- 
sacrifice  withholds  from  being  so.  They  stand  aside,  and 
abstain  from  marriage,  or  marry  late,  effacing  themselves, 
“  sacrificing  ”  themselves,  denying  themselves,  in  order 
(practically,  if  not  designedly)  that  the  luxurious  rich 
and  the  reckless  poor,  the  degraded  organizations  that  have 


152 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


no  notion  of  self-sacrifice  or  self-control,  may  breed  other 
degraded  organizations  like  themselves.  Or,  in  conclu¬ 
sion,  and  once  again  to  state  the  argument  so  nakedly 
and  broadly  that  it  cannot  be  misconceived,  —  when  the 
existence  and  propagation  of  those  degraded  types,  whose 
perpetuation  I  deprecate  and  you  defend,  has  created  a 
race  of  generous  and  noble  natures,  philanthropic  ascetics, 
and  gentle  sceurs  de  char  it  4,  disciplined  to  the  last  per¬ 
fection  of  Christian  devotion  to  others,  it  is  not  they  who 
transmit  their  tried  virtues  to  future  generations,  and  so 
gradually  build  up  a  Humanity  such  as  God  designed ; 
they  remain  barren  saints  and  barren  vestals  ;  and,  in  the 
vast  disciplining  and  ennobling  hospital  that  you  would 
make  of  earth,  it  is  the  patients,  not  the  physicians  or 
the  nurses,  —  the  degraded,  not  the  purified,  —  the  whet¬ 
stones,  not  the  razors,  —  that  are  to  propagate  their  species 
and  their  maladies.  The  virtues  and  the  virtuous  are  to 
be  sacrificed  or  postponed  to  the  evils  which  God  sent  to 
practise  and  to  train  them. 


IV. 

LIMITS  AND  DIRECTION 


OF 

HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


7  * 


HITMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


HE  great  Enigma  of  Human  Destiny,  which  has 


JL  saddened  so  many  bright  hearts  and  baffled  so 
many  noble  understandings,  is  apparently  not  intended 
to  be  wholly  or  satisfactorily  solved  on  earth.  Man  has 
worked  at  it  in  all  ages,  in  every  land,  and  under  every 
condition,  —  and  constantly  in  vain.  The  existence  of 
the  Individual  and  of  the  Race,  their  laws,  signifi¬ 
cance,  origin,  and  goal,  constitute  the  problem  which 
has  alternately  attracted  and  beaten  back  every  order  of 
intellect  and  every  variety  of  character.  From  the  earli¬ 
est  times  of  which  we  have  any  record  we  find  that  men 
had  begun  to  question  of  these  things  ;  the  most  ancient 
literature  we  possess  contains  speculations  upon  them  as 
ingenious,  as  profound,  and  as  unsatisfactory  as  any  that 
can  be  found  in  the  ablest  philosophical  productions  of 
to-day;  for  alas  !  on  these  topics  the 'veriest  child  can 
propound  inquiries  which  the  wisest  sage  cannot  answer ; 
the  simplest  mind  perceives  the  darkness  which  the 
acutest  and  most  powerful  cannot  pierce  or  dissipate  ; 
and  the  young  and  buoyant  spirit  which  comes  fresh  to 
the  endeavor  finds  itself  at  once  hemmed  in  by  the  bar- 


156 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


riers  and  limitations  which  the  intellect  that  has  worked 
longest  in  this  field  is  unable  to  remove  or  overstep. 
Carlyle  and  Goethe,  Bacon  and  Rousseau,  attained  no 
nearer  to  the  golden  secret  than  Job  or  Solomon,  Anax¬ 
agoras  or  Plato.  Generation  after  generation  still  sends 
forth  new  speculators,  ardent,  sanguine,  and  undiscour¬ 
aged  by  the  failure  of  their  predecessors,  to  toil  at  the 
same  Sisyphaean  task,  to  be  met  by  the  same  impassable 
bounds,  to  catch  the  same  vanishing  and  partial  glimpses, 
to  be  conscious  of  the  same  incompetency,  to  confess  to 
the  same  utter  and  disheartening  defeat.  One  after  an¬ 
other  they  retire  from  their  voyage  of  discovery  weary 
and  baffled ;  some  in  the  exasperation  of  mortified  ambi¬ 
tion,  some  having  learned  the  rich  lesson  of  humility  ; 
a  few  in  faith  and  hope,  many  in  bewilderment  and 
despair ;  but  none  in  knowledge,  —  scarcely  any  (and 
those  only  the  weakest)  even  in  the  delusion  of  fancied 
attainment. 

Why  does  Genius  ever  wear  a  crown  of  thorns,  self- 
woven,  and  inherent  in  the  very  conditions  of  its  being  ? 
Why  does  a  cloud  of  lofty  sadness  ever  brood  over  the 
profoundest  minds  ?  *  Why  does  a  bitterness,  as  of 

*  “  Because  the  few  with  signal  virtue  crowned, 

The  heights  and  pinnacles  of  Human  mind, 

Sadder  and  wearier  than  the  rest  are  found,  — 

Wish  not  thy  soul  less  wise  or  less  refined. 

True,  that  the  dear  delights  that  every  day 
Cheer  and  distract  the  pilgrim  are  not  theirs  ; 

True,  that,  though  free  from  Passion’s  lawless  sway, 

A  loftier  being  brings  severer  cares  ; 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  157 


Gethsemane,  mingle  with  or  pervade  the  productions  of 
even  the  serenest  Intelligences,  if  all  human  emotion  he 
not  dead  within  them  ?  Why  have  Statesmen,  Philoso¬ 
phers,  Warriors,  and  Poets,  —  men  of  action  and  men  of 
thought,  —  men  who  have  sought  to  influence  and  men 
who  have  sought  to  comprehend  Humanity,  in  its  wild 
fever  and  its  strange  anomalies,  —  why  have  so  many  of 
them,  in  the  intervals  of  repose  and  at  the  close  of  life, 
been  conscious  of  an  indescribable  melancholy  and  a 
sombre  shadow,  which  yet  had  in  it  nothing  selfish  and 
nothing  morbid  ?  Why,  but  because  these  are  the  minds 
which  have  seen  farther,  and  penetrated  deeper,  and  com¬ 
prehended  more,  and  deceived  themselves  less,  than  oth¬ 
ers  ;  because,  precisely  in  proportion  as  their  experience 
was  profound,  as  their  insight  was  piercing,  as  their  in¬ 
vestigations  were  sincere,  as  their  contemplations  were 
patient  and  continuous,  did  they  recognize  the  mighty 
vastness  of  the  problem,  its  awful  significance,  and  the 
inadequacy  of  the  human  faculties  to  deal  with  it ; 
because  just  in  proportion  as  they  had  higher  percep¬ 
tions  of  what  might  be  or  might  have  been,  the  contrast 
of  what  is  and  of  what  appeared  as  if  it  inevitably  must 
be,  became  more  irreconcilable  and  more  appalling ;  be- 

Yet  have  they  special  pleasures,  —  even  mirth,  — 

By  those  undreamed  of  who  have  only  trod 
Life’s  valley  smooth  ;  and  if  the  rolling  earth 
To  their  nice  ear  have  many  a  painful  tone, 

They  know  man  does  not  live  by  joy  alone, 

But  by  the  presence  of  the  power  of  God.” 

Lord  Houghton. 


158 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


cause  they  felt  painfully  conscious  that  they  could  not  see 
their  wayy  and  could  arrive  only  at  conclusions,  both  in 
speculation  and  in  actual  life,  from  which  it  was  impossi¬ 
ble  to  escape,  yet  in  which  it  was  impossible  to  rest. 
Grand  capacities,  which  seemed  adequate  to  the  mightiest 
achievements;  inwoven  weaknesses  which  dishonored 
those  capacities  and  rendered  those  achievements  hope¬ 
less  and  unattainable;  germs  and  specimens  of  virtues 
approaching  the  divine,  and  promising  a  glorious  future, 
yet  dashed  with  imperfections  and  impurities  which  seem 
to  hint  of  a  low  origin  and  a  still  lower  destiny ;  vast 
steps  forward  to  a  lofty  goal,  —  recreant  backslidings 
towards  the  bottomless  abyss  ;  ages  of  progress  and  en¬ 
lightenment,  followed  by  ages  of  darkness  and  retro¬ 
gression;  unmistakable  indications  of  a  mighty  purpose 
and  an  ulterior  career,  —  undeniable  facts  which  make 
those  indications  seem  a  silly  mockery ;  much  to  excite 
the  fondest  hopes,  much  to  warrant  the  uttermost  de¬ 
spair  ;  beautiful  affections,  noble  aspirations,  pure  tastes, 
fine  intellects,  measureless  delights,  all  the  elements  of 
paradise,  — 

“  But  the  trail  of  the  Serpent  still  over  them  all.” 

And  as,  from  their  watch-tower  of  contemplation,  the 
wise  and  good  have  brooded  over  these  baffling  contra¬ 
dictions,  what  marvel  that  one  by  one  they  should  have 
dropped  off  into  the  grave,  sorrowing,  and  wondering  if 
peradventure  behind  the  great  black  Veil  of  Death  they 
might  find  the  key  to  the  mysteries  which  saddened  their 
noble  spirits  upon  earth. 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


159 


Still  we  go  on  ruminating  over  the  stupendous  enigma 
from  age  to  age,  and  occasionally  obtaining  or  seeming  to 
obtain  new  facts  and  truths  bearing  upon  it,  which,  how¬ 
ever,  are  for  the  most  part  contributions  rather  to  a  clearer 
statement  of  its  conditions  than  to  an  elucidation  of  its 
difficulties.  The  true  solution  is  perhaps  no  nearer  to  us 
than  before,  but  false  ones  are  disproved  and  discarded ; 
positive  Science,  which  is  always  advancing,  lends  its  aid 
not  so  much  to  disperse  the  darkness  as  to  expose  the 
ignes  fatui  which  we  mistook  for  light ;  and  we  are 
brought  into  a  more  hopeful  state  of  progress  and  sent 
farther  on  our  way,  in  proportion  as  wider  knowledge 
and  exacter  observation  unroofs  one  after  another  of  the 
errors  in  which  we  had  sought  a  shelter  and  fancied  we 
could  find  repose.  Perhaps,  after  all,  our  discomfitures 
hitherto  are  attributable  less  to  the  inadequacy  of  our 
speculative  faculties  than  to  the  poverty  of  our  positive 
knowledge ;  the  problem  may  appear  insoluble  simply 
because  we  have  not  yet  accumulated  the  materials  ne¬ 
cessary  for  approaching  it ;  and  the  higher  branches  of 
Physiology  may  yet  point  the  path  to  the  Great  Secret. 

Man  is  a  composite  Being,  and  possesses  a  complex 
organization.  We  must  use  ordinary  language,  even 
though  inaccurate  and  unphilosophic,  so  long  as  it  con¬ 
veys  to  others  the  same  meaning  as  to  ourselves :  to  affect 
a  precision,  which  in  reality  exists  neither  in  thought  nor 
in  the  instrument  of  thought,  would  be  at  once  to  deceive 
and  to  hamper  ourselves.  We  must  accept  the  common 
parlance  of  educated  men  as  a  rough  approximation  to 


160 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


the  truth,  and  at  least  as  the  nearest  approximation  we 
can,  on  the  whole,  make  to  our  conception  of  the  truth. 
We  say  then,  —  as  we  are  most  of  us  in  the  habit  of 
thinking,  —  that  Man  is  made  up  of  three  elements,  — 
body,  mind,  and  spirit :  the  Body,  which  is  the  material 
organ  of  our  inner  being,  the  seat  of  the  senses  through 
which  we  communicate  with  the  outer  world,  the  means 
by  which  we  move  and  act ;  the  Mind,  which  reasons, 
understands,  judges,  and  wills,  of  which  the  body  is  the 
imperfect  servant,  often  the  ruthless  tyrant,  always  the 
sympathizing  companion,  possibly,  as  some  think,  the 
medium  by  which  alone  it  operates  ;  and  the  Soul  or 
Spirit,  that  element  and  ingredient  of  our  nature  which 
we  believe,  or  fancy,  to  be  something  distinct  from  the 
understanding,  which  is  the  seat  of  our  moral  nature,  our 
emotions  and  affections,  which  is  the  embodiment  of 
our  consciousness,  which  we  feel  to  be  more  peculiarly 
ourselves ,  which  we  think  to  be  undying,  in  virtue  of 
which  we  live  in  the  future  and  aspire  to  the  Eternal, 
by  which  we  come  into  relation  with  the  unseen  and 
spiritual  world.  It  is  possible,  as  materialists  say,  that 
this  division  may  be  mere  delusion,  that  we  ought  to  speak 
rather  of  the  Nervous  and  Muscular  systems  ;  that  Mind, 
Thought,  may  be  merely  a  state  or  operation  of  the  physi¬ 
cal  brain ;  and  that  the  Soul  has  no  existence  whatever, 
but  that  what  we  call  such  is  only  a  finer  function  or 
development  of  the  reason.  But,  be  this  as  it  may,  we 
are  compelled  to  accept  this  threefold  division  and  employ 
expressions  which  assume  it  to  be  a  reality,  because  only 
thus  can  we  state,  or  bring  our  language  into  harmony  with , 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  161 


the  known  facts  of  our  Nature,  without  having  recourse 
to  periphrases,  qualifications,  technical  terms,  logical  and 
metaphysical  definitions  which  —  while  perhaps  they 
insured  no  higher  degree  of  correctness,  but  merely  sub¬ 
stituted  one  inaccuracy  for  another  —  would  effectually 
confuse  and  mystify  our  meaning. 

Man,  then,  we  say,  has  received  from  the  hands  of  his 
Maker  a  composite  nature,  fitted  for  the  part  he  is  to  play 
and  the  work  he  has  to  do.  In  the  consentaneous  culti¬ 
vation,  in  the  equal  and  harmonious  development  of  all 
the  elements  of  this  nature,  must  lie  its  earthly  perfection 
and  his  earthly  destiny.  By  “  harmonious  development  ” 
we  mean  the  fullest  elaboration  and  perfectation  of  each 
element  which  is  compatible  with  the  fullest  culture,  the 
completest  exercise,  the  healthiest  and  most  vigorous  con¬ 
dition  of  every  other;  that  justly  balanced  progress  towards 
the  extreme  of  capability,  in  which  no  part  profits  or  is 
fostered  to  the  injury  of  the  rest. 

Experience,  however,  soon  teaches  us  that  no  one  of  the 
three  elements  of  our  composite  Being  can  reach  this  fullest 
development  except  ai  the  expense  of  the  others  ;  that  each  is 
capable  of  an  abnormal  scope  and  strength  by  impoverish¬ 
ing  the  other  components  and  impairing  the  harmony  of 
the  whole,  —  but  only  thus.  The  highest  flight,  the  furthest 
range  of  each  portion  of  our  Nature  is  purchasable  only 
at  the  cost  of  full  and  fair  justice  to  the  rest.  The  per¬ 
fection  of  humanity  is  one  thing :  the  perfection  of  the 
Spiritual,  Intellectual,  or  Animal  Man,  severally,  is  a  dif¬ 
ferent  thing ;  and  they  would  seem  mutually  to  exclude 
each  other. 


K 


162 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


There  can  be  no  doubt  that  a  healthy  condition  of  the 
body  greatly  contributes  to  the  healthy  action  of  the  mind, 
to  a  clear  perception  and  a  sane  judgment.  It  may  be 
questioned  indeed  whether  a  man  with  a  disordered  liver 
or  a  dyspeptic  habit  can  see  things  in  a  precisely  true 
light,  or  take  a  just  view  and  an  unexaggerated  estimate 
of  their  proportions.  At  any  rate,  it  is  certain  that  any 
weakness  or  derangement  in  the  corporeal  functions  has 
a  tendency  to  introduce  corresponding  disorder  into 
the  mental  operations,  —  a  tendency  which  only  the 
utmost  vigilance  of  observation  and  the  utmost  energy 
of  will  can  counteract.  A  sound  constitution  is  the 
best  handmaid  to  a  sound  intellect,  and  only  a  frame 
naturally  strong  can  carry  men  uninjured  through  the 
fatigues  of  severe  and  unremitting  mental  labor.  The 
brain  becomes  injured  by  over-pressure,  and  the  other 
organs  and  functions  suffer  secondarily  or  by  sympathy. 
So  far,  then,  we  fully  recognize  that  a  perfectly  sound  and 
normal  state  of  the  mental  element  demands  and  belongs 
to  a  sound  and  normal  state  of  the  corporeal  element 
of  our  nature,  and  vice  versa.  So  true  is  this,  that  there 
are  some  cases  in  which  torpor  of  the  mind  produces 
maladies  of  the  body ;  and  maladies  of  the  body  for  which 
mental  activity  and  moral  stimulus  are  the  promptest  and 
most  appropriate  remedies.  Ennui  or  apathy  is  as  real  a 
source  of  illness  as  malaria  or  alcohol.  And  we  have  all 
of  us  heard  of  instances  in  which  a  sudden  shock  to  the 
feelings  or  a  startling  idea  conveyed  to  the  mind  has  re¬ 
stored  action  to  paralytic  limbs,  life  to  the  languishing, 
and  transient  strength  to  atrophy  itself. 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  163 


But,  on  the  other  hand,  though  the  physical  frame  must 
he  kept  in  a  sound  and  well-disciplined  condition  in  order 
to  be  a  faithful  servant  and  an  adequate  and  effective  organ 
of  the  Mind,  it  is  equally  true  that  the  highest  develop¬ 
ment  of  the  bodily,  and  the  highest  development  of  the 
mental,  powers  must  be  sought  for  by  a  very  different 
course  of  training,  and  cannot  (except  in  abnormal  and 
exceptional  cases)  be  attained  in  the  same  individual  or 
under  the  same  circumstances.  The  perfection  of  the  hu¬ 
man  animal  and  the  perfection  of  the  human  being  are 
probably  quite  incompatible.  Where  do  we  find  the  most 
astonishing  strength,  the  most  wonderful  feats  of  activity, 
the  hardiest  nerves,  the  keenest  and  most  unerring  senses, 
in  a  word,  the  culminating  point  of  the  corporeal  faculties 
and  functions  ?  In  the  brutal  gladiators  of  Greece  or 
Rome,  in  the  mindless  Matadors  of  Spain,  in  the  filthy 
savages  of  North  America,  in  the  empty  acrobats  and 
circus-riders  of  our  theatres,  in  the  nearly  idiotic  prize¬ 
fighters  of  our  pugilistic  rings.  In  the  low,  narrow  fore¬ 
head,  the  small  brain,  the  scowling  brow,  the  animal  ex¬ 
pression  of  the  ancient  Gladiator  and  Athlete,  contrasted 
with  his  quick  eye,  his  spare  form,  his  well-developed  mus¬ 
cles,  as  pliant  as  whalebone  and  as  hard  as  steel,  his  firm, 
well-knit,  elastic  frame,  may  be  seen  a  further  illustration, 
—  an  illustration  which  will  be  at  once  confirmed  when  we 
converse  with  the  dull  and  unintelligent  of  the  pugilists 
or  posture-masters  of  our  country,  or  take  the  trouble  to 
observe  among  the  circle  of  our  own  acquaintances  what 
sort  of  intellects  take  most  kindly  to  bodily  exercises  and 
are  most  eminent  for  feats  of  agility  and  strength. 


164 


*  ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Again  :  take  a  man  whose  whole  life,  whose  every  clay 
is  spent  in*  severe  physical  labor,  —  the  woodcutter  for 
example,  —  every  muscle  of  whose  brawny  frame  is  trained 
and  hardened  to  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  capacity,  whose  every 
organ  is  performing  its  allotted  function  to  perfection, 
whose  every  nerve  and  fibre  is  glowing  with  health,  to 
whom  pain,  weakness,  and.  malady  are  altogether  strangers. 
Call  upon  that  man  for  even  moderate  mental  effort,  and 
you  find  that  a  child  might  overmatch  him.  I  will  sup¬ 
pose  him  a  man  of  education,  —  there  are  many  such  in 
the  colonies  and  the  backwoods,  —  but  set  him  down  to  a 
problem  or  a  hook,  and  he  is  certain  to  fall  asleep ;  task 
his  mind  in  conversation,  and  he  cannot  follow  you,  or 
if  he  does  for  a  while,  he  feels  as  wearied  as  if  he  had 
walked  fifty  miles  or  felled  trees  for  twelve  hours ;  test 
his  intellectual  faculties  in  any  way  you  please,  and  you 
will  find  them  quite  sound  perhaps,  hut  incapacitated 
because  unexercisecl.  His  development  has  gone  in  a 
different  direction. 

Or  let  the  practised  student  or  the  trained  literary 
man  examine  himself  as  to  the  times  and  conditions  in 
which  he  finds  himself  capable  of  the  highest  flight  or  the 
most  severe  and  sustained  toil.  Is  it  when  the  animal  part 
of  him  is  in  the  healthiest  and  most  natural  condition,  — 
when  the  body  is  nourished  with  ample  and  succulent  food, 
—  when  the  limbs  are  wearied  with  salutary  exercise,  — 
when  he  has  passed  hours  inhaling  the  fresh  mountain 
breezes  and  bringing  his  muscles  into  fit  development  by 
the  oar,  the  foil,  or  a  gallop  with  the  Melton  fox-hounds  ? 
On  the  contrary,  at  such  times,  although  conscious  that  he 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


165 


is  then  in  the  most  natural  and  soundest  condition  on  the 
whole ,  he  feels  less  capable  than  usual  of  concentrated 
thought,  less  disposed  for  patient  and  prolonged  research, 
more  ready  to  enjoy,  less  ready  to  contemplate  or  to  soar. 
Nourishing  food  clouds  his  mind ;  ample  exercise  brings 
inevitable  somnolence ;  the  Soul  is,  as  it  were,  clogged  by 
the  rude  health  of  body ;  the  animal  nature  begins  to  en¬ 
croach  upon  the  spiritual,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  to 
insist  upon  its  dues. 

The  conclusion  to  which  all  these  observations  point  is 
simply  that  which  the  physiologist  would  arrive  at  a 
priori.  The  brain,  he  is  well  aware,  is  the  organ  by 
means  of  which  the  intellect  does  its  work,  —  the  organ 
of  Thought,  just  as  the  lungs  are  the  organ  of  respiration, 
the  heart  that  of  circulation,  and  the  nerves  and  muscles 
those  of  action  and  volition.  It  is  a  law  of  physiology 
that  every  bodily  organ  strengthens  and  enlarges  in  pro¬ 
portion  as  it  is  exercised,  and  shrinks  and  becomes  en¬ 
feebled  if  it  be  comparatively  unattended  to  and  unem¬ 
ployed.  It  is  in  the  power  of  the  individual  to  throw,  as 
it  were,  the  whole  vigor  of  the  constitution  into  any  one 
part,  and  by  giving  to  this  part  exclusive  or  excessive 
attention,  to  develop  it  at  the  expense  and  to  the  neglect 
of  the  others.  Thus  the  brain  of  the  thinker,  and  the 
lungs  of  the  glass-blower,  attain  a  partial  and  abnormal 
development  by  engrossing  the  exercise  and  nourishment 
which  ought  to  have  been  more  equally  distributed  to  all 
the  functions ;  the  right  arm  of  the  fencer  and  the  left 
arm  of  the  rider  become  peculiarly  strong  ;  and  while  the 
legs  of  the  pedestrian  acquire  an  exaggerated  size  and 


166 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


vigor  in  which  the  upper  extremities  clo  not  share,  those 
of  the  Indian  of  the  Pampas,  on  the  other  hand,  who  is 
always  on  horseback,  are  feeble,  emaciated,  and  compara¬ 
tively  useless  instruments.  He  is  insignificant  and  impo¬ 
tent  on  foot.  A  special  training  and  management  is 
required  according  to  the  result  you  wish  to  produce  :  for 
the  pugilist  you  develop  the  muscles  of  the  arm,  for  the 
runner  those  of  the  legs  and  loins ;  the  organization  you 
cultivate  in  the  racer  is  quite  different  and  incompatible 
with  that  needed  in  the  cart-horse ;  and  in  like  manner 
the  discipline  by  which  is  sought  the  completest  and 
most  thorough  elaboration  of  the  physical  or  that  of  the 
intellectual  Man  is  entirely  divergent.  The  fullest  de¬ 
velopment  of  either  cannot  be  united  with  the  harmoni¬ 
ous  and  equal  development  of  both.  To  produce  the 
highest  mental  result  we  cultivate  the  body  only  in  as 
far  as  is  necessary  to  keep  it  in  that  degree  of  health 
suited  to  the  favorable  and  unimpeded  operation  of  the 
brain,  caring  nothing  for  its  condition  of  strength  or 
agility.  To  produce  the  highest  corporeal  result,  wre  at¬ 
tend  to  the  mind  only  enough  to  keep  it  in  that  state 
of  gentle  stimulus  and  moderate  activity  which  expe¬ 
rience  has  found  conducive  to  the  development  of  the 
physical  capacities.  Like  skilful  generals,  we  con¬ 
centrate  our  whole  force  upon  that  central  division 
of  our  army  with  which  we  intend  to  operate,  taking 
care  merely  that  in  doing  so  we  do  not  impoverish  the 
other  wings  to  an  extent  which  would  disable  them 
from  rendering  the  efficient  support  which  is  indispen¬ 
sable. 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


167 


What  is  true  of  the  Body  is  true  of  the  Mind  likewise. 
Its  highest  condition  is  an  abnormal  condition.  Its 
loftiest  and  grandest  developments  are  attainable  only  at 
the  expense  of  the  corporeal  frame  and  of  the  natural 
affections.  Its  greatest  achievements  are  dearly  paid  for. 
Its  most  towering  pinnacle  is  also  the  most  perilous 
position  it  can  reach.  The  mightiest  and  most  glorious 
human  Intellect  is  ipso  facto  imperfect  as  a  man, —  more 
imperfect  than  many  of  his  fellow-beings.  The  ordinary 
mental  operations  and  exertions,  those  in  which  the 
intellect  is  merely  exercised,  not  strained,  may  be  carried 
on,  not  only  without  injury,  but  even  with  benefit  to  the 
body.  But  severe  and  prolonged  mental  labor,  that  de¬ 
votion  of  the  whole  faculties  to  the  pursuit  before  them, 
that  concentration  of  the  powers  on  one  object  or  on  one 
point,  without  which  anything  great  or  eminent  can 
rarely  be  attained,  this,  we  know,  tells  terribly  upon  phys¬ 
ical  health  and  strength.  Every  year,  to  the  disgrace  of 
our  Educators  and  our  Doctors,  showTs  us  young  men  who 
break  down  in  the  struggle  for  University  honors,  or  sink 
into  permanent  valetudinarianism  as  soon  as  the  unnat¬ 
ural  strain  is  withdrawn.  Every  physician  can  point  to 
students  whose  splendid  cerebral  development  has  been 
paid  for  by  emaciated  limbs,  enfeebled  digestion,  and 
disordered  lungs.  Every  biography  of  the  intellectual 
Great  records  the  dangers  they  have  encountered,  often 
those  to  which  they  have  succumbed,  in  overstepping  the 
ordinary  bounds  of  human  capacity ;  and,  while  beckon¬ 
ing  onward  to  the  glories  of  their  almost  preternatural 
achievements,  registers,  by  way  of  warning,  the  fearful 


168 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


penalty  of  disease,  suffering,  and  bodily  infirmity  which 
Nature  exacts  as  the  price  for  this  partial  and  inharmo¬ 
nious  grandeur.  It  cannot  be  otherwise.  The  brain  can¬ 
not  take  more  than  its  share  without  injury  to  other 
organs.  It  cannot  do  more  than  its  share  without  depriv¬ 
ing  other  organs  of  that  exercise  and  nourishment  which 
are  essential  to  their  health  and  vigor.  The  imaginative 
efforts  and  the  frequent  and  prolonged  state  of  cerebral 
excitation  requisite  for  the  production  of  the  finest  poetry 
involve  inevitable  reaction,  lassitude,  and  weakness. 
The  profound  reflection,  the  laborious  and  resolute  ab¬ 
straction,  by  which  alone  the  penetralia  of  the  inner 
world  can  be  explored  and  the  hardest  problems  of  phi¬ 
losophy  are  to  be  solved,  sap  the  vital  energy  to  a  degree 
that  only  experience  can  convince  us  of,  impair  the  sleep, 
weaken  the  digestion,  and  exhaust  the  frame.  Perhaps 
severer  than  all  is  the  continuity  of  application  needed 
for  great  achievements  either  in  literature  or  science.  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  was  wont  to  say  that  he  owed  his  success 
and  whatever  apparent  superiority  over  other  men  he 
might  have  shown,  to  his  faculty  of  thinking  continu¬ 
ously  on  the  same  subject  for  twenty  or  thirty  hours 
together.  But  this  continuous  exercise  of  one  organ  is 
precisely  the  most  fatiguing  and  weakening  of  all  things. 
We  may  keep  in  bodily  exercise  for  twelve  hours  without 
injury  or  lassitude,  provided  we  vary  frequently  enough 
the  muscles  which  are  brought  into  play.  But  who  can 
walk,  or  fence,  or  hammer,  or  blow  glass  for  twelve  hours 
without  injury  or  peril  ?  Again,  many  can  use  their 
brains  for  twelve  hours,  and  use  them  energetically  too. 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  169 


without  being  the  worse  for  it,  if  the  subjects  of  their 
attention  are  changed  from  time  to  time.  But  this  dissi¬ 
pation  of  the  mind  over  many  topics  is  precisely  the 
habit  which  is  antagonistic  to  all  those  great  achieve¬ 
ments  of  which  concentration  and  continuity  of  thought 
are  the  indispensable  conditions. 

Once  more.  Sleep,  sufficient  in  quantity  and  sound  in 
quality,  is  essential  to  the  health,  strength,  and  normal 
perfection  of  man.  Yet  not  only  is  severe  mental  appli¬ 
cation  unfavorable  to  sleep  and  apt  to  deprive  it  of  that 
character  of  complete  unconsciousness  necessary  for  thor¬ 
ough  refreshment  and  repose,  but  life  is  short,  the  work  of 
the  intellectual  aspirant  is  multifarious  and  vast,  and  the 
residue  of  time  left  after  the  due  demands  of  the  body  for 
sleep  have  been  satisfied,  is  seldom  sufficient  for  all  that 
has  to  be  learned  and  done.  Hence  we  find  that  nearly 
all  the  loftiest  and  grandest  minds  —  those,  we  mean,  who 
have  pushed  forward  their  intellectual  nature  to  its  cul¬ 
minating  point  —  have  cut  short  their  hours  of  slumber, 
have  defrauded  the  body  of  its  needful  rest,  and  have  im¬ 
paired  its  strength  and  effectiveness  accordingly.  Severe 
study,  too,  injures  the  sight ;  sedentary  habits  are  incom¬ 
patible  with  muscular  activity,  a  strong  stomach,  or  serene 
nerves  ;  yet,  without  severe  study  and  sedentary  habits,  it 
is  difficult  to  see  how,  in  our  time  at  least,  the  summits  of 
intellect  are  to  be  scaled  or  the  arcana  of  the  Universe 
laid  bare. 

It  appears,  then,  that  the  ultimate  development  of  which 
the  intellect  is  capable,  and  its  highest  possible  attain¬ 
ments,  can  only  be  reached  by  an  exclusive  cultivation  and 

8 


170 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


attention  which  entails  upon  its  physical  companion  im¬ 
poverishment,  weakness,  and  disease.  But  this  is  not  all. 
It  seems  even  that  bodily  pain  and  disease  are  not  only 
compatible  with,  but  may  indirectly  contribute  to,  the  lofti¬ 
est  efforts  of  the  intellect.  They  sometimes  positively 
enhance  its  powers.  The  effect  of  some  disorders  and 
of  certain  sorts  of  pain  upon  the  nerves  tends  to  produce 
a  cerebral  excitation ;  and  the  stimulus  thus  communi¬ 
cated  to  the  material  organ  of  thought  renders  it  for  the 
time  capable  of  unusual  effort.*  Men  under  the  stirring 
influence  of  severe  pain  are  capable  of  a  degree  of  imagi¬ 
native  and  ratiocinative  brilliancy  which  astonishes  them¬ 
selves  and  all  who  have  known  them  only  in  ordinary 
moods  of  comfort.  Extinct  faculties  come  back  to  them. 
Torpid  faculties  become  vigorous  and  sparkling.  For¬ 
gotten  knowledge  is  recovered.  Marvellous  gleams  of 
insight  are  vouchsafed  to  them.  The  wonderful  elo¬ 
quence  of  Bobert  Hall  was  doubtless  greatly  owing  to  the 
stimulating  influence  of  a  terrible  spinal  malady.  Dr. 
Conolly  mentions  a  gentleman  whose  mental  faculties 
never  reached  their  full  power  except  under  the  irritation 
of  a  blister.  Abnormal  and  unsound  conditions  of  the 
bodily  organs  sometimes  give  us  glimpses  of  mental 
powers  and  possibilities  far  exceeding  anything  of  which 
ordinary  health  is  capable.  The  phenomena  of  some  ner- 

*  Those  who  wish  to  follow  up  this  train  of  thought  may  find 
much  suggestive  matter  in  Abercrombie’s  “  Intellectual  Powers,”  third 
edition,  pp.  140,  141,  142,  285,  291,  297,  310,  363,  274. 

Dr.  Wigan,  “  Duality  of  Mind,”  pp.  78,  265,  361,  378,  283,  284. 

Dr.  Conolly,  “Indications  of  Insanity,”  pp.  214,  221. 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  171 


vous  disorders  are  positive  revelations,  and  most  startling 
ones,  of  what  the  human  intellect,  disengaged  from  matter 
or  under  favoring  material  conditions,  might  achieve  and 
learn.  The  partial  powers  alleged  to  appear  in  catalepsy 
are  most  singular.  Insanity,  which  is  clearly  a  disorder 
of  the  brain,  is  not  without  its  strange  analogous  sugges¬ 
tions.  The  approach  of  death  - —  that  is  to  say,  the  culmi¬ 
nation  of  disease  —  has  occasionally  given  wonderful 
depth,  clearness,  and  insight  to  the  mental  powers.  In 
fact,  when  we  become  acquainted  with  all  the  remarkable 
cases  of  these  and  cognate  phenomena  on  record,  it  seems 
scarcely  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  supreme  point  of  vigor, 
brilliancy,  and  penetration  of  the  human  faculties  can 
only  be  reached  under  unsound  conditions  of  the  body. 


There  can,  we  apprehend,  be  no  doubt  that  in  proportion 
as  a  man  is  deficient  in  the  natural  affections,  in  proportion 
as  those  sympathies  which  bind  him  to  individual  fellow- 
beings  are  either  originally  cold  and  languid,  or  have  be¬ 
come  so  by  the  accidents  of  life,  or  have  been  wilfully 
bounded  or  suppressed,  —  in  that  proportion  does  he  re¬ 
cede  from  the  ideal  of  a  perfect  human  being.  We  all  in¬ 
stinctively  feel  that  a  man  of  pure  intellect,  however  grand 
and  powerful  that  intellect  may  be,  —  a  man  in  whom  the 
rational  too  completely  predominates  over  the  emotional, 
—  is  incomplete  and  unsatisfactory.  He  is  inharmoniously 
developed.  We  shrink  from  these  incarnations  of  Mind  as 
something  portentous  and  unnatural,  and  leave  them  alone 
in  their  desolate  and  solitary  grandeur.  Yet  it  can  scarcely 


172 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


be  questioned,  not  only  that  the  most  intense  cultivation 
of  the  understanding  has  a  tendency  to  starve  and  chill 
the  gentler  and  tenderer  affections,  but  that  this  suppres¬ 
sion  of  them  is  necessary  to  permit  the  attainment  of  the 
very  loftiest  summits  of  thought.  The  conquest  of  the 
remoter  and  profounder  realms  of  Eeason  demands,  not 
only  the  concentrated  devotion  of  the  whole  intellect,  but 
a  calmness  and  serenity  of  Soul  which  is  unattainable  by 
those  who  still  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  the  domestic 
hearth,  and  are  liable  to  be  swayed  and  perturbed  by  the 
emotions  inseparable  from  the  love  of  the  earthly,  the 
perishable,  and  the  imperfect.  Ancient  Philosophers, 
Poets,  Mystics,  Artists,  religious  Enthusiasts,  have  all  felt 
the  same  need,  all  acknowledged  the  same  inevitable  price, 
all  preached  the  same  cold  doctrine,  with  more  or  less  of 
insight  and  consistency.  The  absence  of  disturbing  emo¬ 
tions,  the  undivided  direction  and  engrossment  of  the  in¬ 
tellect,  is  the  one  indispensable  condition  A  “  Not  in  vain 

*  u  ‘  And  once  more/  I  cried,  ‘  ye  stars,  ye  waters, 

On  my  heart  your  mighty  charm  renew  ; 

Still,  still,  let  me,  as  1  gaze  upon  you, 

Feel  my  Soul  becoming  vast  like  you.’ 

“  From  the  intense,  clear,  star-sown  vault  of  Heaven, 

Over  the  lit  Sea’s  unquiet  way, 

Through  the  rustling  night  air  came  the  answer,  — 

‘  Wouldst  thou  be  as  these  are  ?  —  live  as  thev. 

v 

“  ‘Unaffrighted  by  the  silence  round  them, 

Undistracted  by  the  sights  they  see, 

These  demand  not  that  the  things  without  them 
Yield  them  love,  amusement,  sympathy. 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  173 


did  the  old  Bosicrucians  —  those  spiritual  aspirants  who 
aimed  at  an  earthly  immortality  and  superhuman  powers, 
and  fancied  that  some  had  won  them  —  teach  that  the  ex¬ 
tinction  of  all  earthly  passions,  fear,  love,  hate,  pity,  ambi¬ 
tion,  must  precede  the  attainment  of  the  ‘  Arch  Secret/ 
and  the  initiation  into  the  sublime  existence  which  they 
sought.  Not  without  reason  did  they  feign  that  all  their 
occult  knowledge  and  their  wondrous  faculties  were  un¬ 
availing  for  the  aid  or  protection  of  those  to  whom  they 
were  bound  by  the  sweet  ties  of  human  affection  or  earthly 
interest,  inasmuch  as  the  least  shade  of  natural  sympathy 
at  once  struck  these  abnormal  powers  with  impotence  and 
blindness.  Those  powers  are  granted,  they  taught,  to  him 
only  who  could  become  a  passionless,  impressionless,  serene 
Intelligence.” 

The  truth  is,  Peace  is  necessary  to  all  the  higher  intel¬ 
lectual  operations.  Great  feats  may  be  done  while  the  Soul 
is  tempest-tossed  :  great  heights  achieved  —  no  !  —  Poets 
may  strike  out  splendid  passages,  sparkling  with  passion¬ 
ate  beauty  and  a  sort  of  gorgeous  and  turbid  inspiration, 
and  Orators  may  astonish  us  with  brilliant  flights  of  power 

“  1  But  with  joy  the  Stars  perform  their  shining, 

And  the  Sea  its  long  moon-silvered  roll,  — 

For  alone,  they  live,  nor  pine  with  noting 
All  the  fever  of  some  differing '80111. 

“  1  Bounded  by  themselves,  and  unobservant 
In  what  state  God’s  other  works  may  be, 

In  their  own  task  all  their  powers  pouring, 

These  attain  the  mighty  life  you  see.’  ” 


M.  Arnold. 


174 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  patlios,  redolent  of  the  excitement  which  gave  them 
birth ;  and  all  this  may  be  done  while  the  heart  is  torn  by 
internal  conflict  or  by  wild  emotion,  or  yearning  with  un¬ 
answered  love,  or  sick  and  faint  with  passionate  desire ; 
nay,  it  may  be  done  while  the  conscience  is  heavy  with 
the  load  of  recent  sin,  or  distracted  in  a  danger  wherein  it 
sees  no  light  and  *  is  conscious  of  no  strength  ;  it  may  be 
done  \^iile  the  spirit  is  burdened  with  a  hopeless  or  melted 
with  a  tender  grief,  and  while  the  mind  is  clouded  and 
bewildered  by  strife  and  pain,  and  the  mistiness  of  the 
moral  vision.  But  Thought,  insight,  sound,  clear  vision 
of  the  Truth,  wisdom  at  once  piercing  and  comprehensive, 
the  noblest  and  divinest  achievements  of  the  Beason,  de¬ 
mand  serenity  of  Soul  as  their  imperative  condition.  Pas¬ 
sion  clouds  the  mental  Eye ;  emotion  disturbs  the  organ 
of  discovery :  as  the  astronomer  can  only  rely  upon  his 
nicest  and  loftiest  observations  when  the  air  is  still  and 
the  telescope  is  isolated  from  all  the  tremulous  movements 
of  terrestrial  surroundings,  so  the  Thinker  can  only  see 
justly  and  penetrate  far,  when  all  that  could  agitate  his 
Spirit  is  buried  deep,  or  put  quite  away,  or  laid  eternally 
to  rest.  The  conscience  must  slumber  either  in  conscious 
innocence  or  in  recognized  forgiveness ;  the  aspirations  and 
desires  must  be  calm,  simple,  and  chastised ;  the  keener 
sympathies  must  be  still ;  the  heart  must  repose  upon  a 
love  at  once  serene,  satisfied,  and  certain,  — 

“  Such  love  as  Spirits  feel 
In  worlds  whose  course  is  equable  and  pure  ; 

No  fears  to  beat  away,  no  strife  to  heal, 

The  past  unsighed  for,  and  the  future  sure.” 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


175 


Or  the  needed  Peace  must  be  sought  in  a  sadder  and  a 
surer  mode.  There  is  the  peace  of  surrendered,  as  well 
as  of  fulfilled  hopes,  —  the  peace,  not  of  satisfied,  but  of 
extinguished  longings,  —  the  peace,  not  of  the  happy 
love  and  the  secure  fireside,  but  of  unmurmuring  and 
accepted  loneliness,  —  the  peace,  not  of  the  heart  which 
lives  in  joyful  serenity  afar  from  trouble  and  from  strife, 
but  of  the  heart  whose  conflicts  are  over  and  whose  hopes 
are  buried,  —  the  peace  of  the  passionless  as  well  as  the 
peace  of  the  happy,  —  not  the  peace  which  brooded  over 
Eden,  but  that  which  crowned  Gethsemane.  Perhaps  this 
peace  —  if  there  be  no  sourness  or  morbid  melancholy 
mingled  with  it  —  is  even  more  favorable  than  its  brighter 
prototype  to  depth  of  mental  vision  and  power  of  intel¬ 
lectual  effort ;  because  —  though  with  less  of  elastic 
energy  —  its  source  lies  deeper,  its  nature  is  more 
thorough,  it  is  less  liable  to  disturbance  from  without. 
With  it 

“  The  future  cannot  contradict  the  past, 

Mortality’s  last  exercise  and  proof 
Is  undergone.” 


The  solitude  of  Soul,  which  is  its  worst  sting,  is  also  its 
surest  seal.  The  deepest  discernment  and  the  highest 
wisdom  ever  proceed  either  from  the  throne  of  the 
crowned,  or  the  grave  of  the  buried,  Love. 

If  there  is  something  sad  in  the  idea  that  the  brightest 
torch  of  the  mind  should  be  kindled  at  the  funeral  pile 
of  earthly  happiness  ;  that  in  the  slaughter  or  suicide  of 
the  affections  should  be  found  the  entrance  to  the  inner 


176 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


courts  of  wisdom ;  that  men  should  be  compelled  “  to 
learn  in  suffering  what  they  teach  in  song  ”  :  yet  it  is 
much  that  griefs  arising  from  crushed  or  wounded  human 
tenderness  should  be  able  to  find  a  refuge  and  a  substi¬ 
tute  in  the  loftier  and  serener  realm  of  thought,  —  though 
to  taste  this  balm  effectually,  a  man  must  not  only  be  able 
to  trample  out  his  tenderness,  but  must  feel  it  right  to  do 
so,  —  perhaps  must  have  this  task  made  naturally  easy  to 
him  * 

But  to  men  of  gentler  and  more  genial  natures  —  men 
in  whose  nature  Love  is  as  indestructible  as  Thought,  who 
cannot  slay  their  affections,  and  would  not  if  they  could 
—  the  great  drag  and  penalty  upon  intellectual  progress 
is  the  sense  that  it  is  and  must  be  made  at  the  hazard  and 
to  the  mortification  of  the  warmer  sympathies,  —  often  to 
the  loss  of 

“  The  thousand  still,  sweet  joys  of  such 
As  hand  in  hand  face  earthly  life.” 

*  “  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt  seemed  to  have  acquired  this  peace 
by  closing  his  mind  to  all  disturbing  calls  or  feelings  from  without, 
■ —  to  have  kej)t  his  spirit  as  if  it  were  in  an  iron  safe.”  —  Thoughts 
of  a  Statesman.  “  Goethe,  probably  the  most  powerful  and  com¬ 
prehensive  genius  among  the  moderns,  appears  to  have  been  by 
temperament  cold  and  unsympathizing,  —  not  absolutely  heartless, 
but  only  feeling  superficially,  —  and  to  have  cultivated  this  coldness 
as  an  invaluable  mental  aid.”  —  Conversations  with  Eckerman. 
11  It  is  a  great  folly  to  hope  that  other  men  will  harmonize  with  us  : 
I  have  never  hoped  this.  I  have  always  regarded  each  man  as  an 
independent  individual,  whom  I  endeavored  to  study  and  to  under¬ 
stand,  with  all  his  peculiarities  ;  but  from  whom  I  desired  no  further 
sympathy.” 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  177 


The  most  painful  portion  of  the  martyrdom  which  awaits 
the  emancipation  and  the  growth  of  mind  is,  that  it  so 
often  compels  us  to  leave  those  we  have  loved  and  lived 
with  behind ;  those  who  once  marched  side  by  side  with 
us,  with  parallel  steps  and  equal  vigor,  grow  languid,  fall 
behind,  tread  in  our  footsteps  only  feebly,  timidly,  and  at 
a  distance,  and  at  length  stand  still  and  gaze  after  us  with 
grief,  exasperation,  or  despair ;  those  who  used  to  be  our 
sought  and  cherished  comrades  in  our  moments  of  deep¬ 
est  feeling  and  of  highest  elevation  are  now  reserved  for 
the  hours  when  we  unbend  ourselves  and  sink  down  to  the 
simplicities  and  genialities  of  fond  human  affections  ;  and 
the  friend  of  the  inner  becomes  but  the  companion  of  the 
outer  life.  All  this  is  exquisitely  sad;  and  thousands 
among  the  searchers  after  truth  “  sicken  at  the  unshared 
light  ”  they  reach  at  last. 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  those  fond  and  expansive 
affections  which  are  so  essential  to  the  perfect  ideal  of 
humanity,  and  without  which  we  feel  it  to  be  defective, 
are  hostile  to  the  grandest  development  of  the  intellectual 
faculties ;  and  on  the  other  hand  that  the  supremacy  of 
these  faculties  does  not  favor  those  softer  sentiments  and 
sympathies  which  are  among  the  better  portions  of  our 
nature.  A  confirmatory  indication  may  be  found  in  the 
comparative  and  often  singular  inadequacy  of  the  mental 
powers  of  the  men  of  whom  warm-heartedness  is  the 
predominant  characteristic.  Why  are  Philanthropists 
generally  so  weak,  or  at  all  events  so  wanting  in  com¬ 
manding  talents,  and  even  in  common-sense  ?  Why  are 


178 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


their  schemes  so  constantly  futile,  abortive,  and  even  mis¬ 
chievous  ?  Why  is  their  career  so  strewed  with  failures, 
wrecks,  and  ruins,  —  beyond  the  example  of  men  of 
harder  hearts  and  less  generous  emotions  ?  There  are,  no 
doubt,  a  few  brilliant  exceptions ;  and  cases  might  be 
pointed  out  in  which  real,  permanent,  and  signal  good  ha.3 
resulted  from  the  exertions  of  these  worthy  men ;  but  the 
good  has  generally  flowed,  not  from  the  adoption  of  their 
plans,  but  from  their  zeal  having  compelled  the  attention 
of  colder  and  abler  men  to  the  work  to  be  accomplished. 
Their  views  are  so  often  injudicious,  and  their  schemes  so 
noxious,  that  a  great  portion  of  existing  evils  may  be 
traced,  either  in  their  origin  or  their  present  aggravated 
form,  to  benevolent  interferences  for  their  removal ;  and 
it  may  be  said,  with  little  exaggeration,  that  in  this  world 
a  large  part  of  the  business  of  the  wise  is  to  counteract 
the  efforts  of  the  good. 

Much  of  this  apparent  anomaly  we  believe  to  be  sim¬ 
ply  explicable  by  the  fact  that  in  these  cases  one  part  of 
their  nature  has  been  inordinately  developed  at  the  ex¬ 
pense  of  the  others,  as  it  must  be  in  all  inordinate 
developments.  But  besides  this,  there  is  another  cause. 
The  extent  and  severity  of  human  miseries  are  so  enor¬ 
mous,  and  the  depth  to  which  the  roots  of  them  have 
struck  is  so  measureless,  that  few  men  of  keen  or  ready 
sympathies  can  study  or  contemplate  them  with  a  calm 
mind,  without  either  falling  into  despair,  or  losing  that 
power  of  patient  investigation  and  passionless  reflection, 
from  which  alone  any  sound  projects  for  their  cure  can 
spring.  Human  tenderness  is  a  sad  disturber  of  human 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  179 


intelligence.*  In  truth  those  only  can  safely  and  service¬ 
ably  encounter  social  evils  who  can  both  watch  and  in 
some  measure  imitate  God’s  mode  of  dealing  with  them. 
Patience ;  slow  and  flank  approaches ;  a  dealing  with 
roots,  not  branches,  —  with  the  seat,  not  the  symptom 
of  the  epidemic  horror ;  the  preparing,  rather  than  the 
ordaining ,  of  a  change  or  cure  :  these  characterize  the 
treatment  of  the  world’s  wounds  and  maladies  by  Him 
who  is  “  patient  because  Eternal,”  —  together  with  a 
majestic  indifference  to,  or  rather  a  sublime  endurance  of 
sorrow,  suffering,  and  sin,  during  the  intervening  time, 
however  long,  till  the  seed  has  borne  fruit,  and  the  cause 
has  worked  onward  to  its  issue.  Few,  we  believe,  will 

*  “  Her  heart  is  sick  with  thinking 
Of  the  misery  of  her  kind  ; 

Her  mincl  is  almost  sinking, 

That  once  so  buoyant  mind. 

She  cries,  ‘  These  things  confound  me, 

They  settle  on  my  brain, 

The  very  air  around  me 
Is  universal  pain. 

The  earth  is  damp  with  weeping, 

Rarely  the  sun  shines  clear 
On  any  but  those  sleeping 
Upon  the  quiet  bier. 

I  envy  not  hard  hearts,  but  yet 
I  would  I  could  sometimes  forget  ; 

I  would,  though  but  for  moments,  look 
With  comfort  into  Nature’s  book, 

Nor  read  that  everlasting  frown 
Whose  terror  bows  me  wholly  down.’  ” 

R.  M.  Milnes. 


180 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


ever  effect  real,  radical,  permanent  social  amelioration, 
who  endeavor  to  cure  evils  by  direct  enactment ;  whose 
feelings  are  too  keen  and  sensitive  to  wait  the  time  of  the 
Most  High,  and  to  contemplate  with  unflinching  faith  and 
patience  the  sufferings  continued  through  or  by  reason  of 
the  remedial  process,  sometimes  even  aggravated  by  it.* 
Hence  the  coldest  tempers  are  generally,  in  matters  of 
philanthropy,  the  soundest  thinkers  and  the  safest  guides 
and  administrators.  A  tender-hearted  statesman  is  almost 
more  to  be  dreaded  than  a  despot  or  an  adventurer.  To 
be  worthy  and  efficient  coadjutors  of  God,  on  the  great 
arena  of  the  world,  we  must  be  able  to  borrow  some  of 
the  sublime,  impassive  calm  with  which,  age  after  age, 
He  has  looked  down  upon  the  slow  progress  and  the  lin¬ 
gering  miseries  of  his  children. 

Again.  The  loftiest  culture  of  the  intellect  is  not 
favorable  either  to  undoubting  conviction  of  any  truth 
or  to  unhesitating  devotion  to  any  cause.  It  has  been 
truly  said  of  the  most  profound  and  comprehensive  order 
jof  minds  :  Its  font  penser  :  il  ne  font  pas  croire.  —  “  The 
greater  the  knowledge  the  greater  the  doubt,”  said  Goethe. 
And  the  faitlrfullest  thinkers  have  felt  more  painfully 
than  others  that,  the  deeper  they  go,  often  the  less  easy  it 
is  to  reach  soundings ;  in  a  word,  the  more  thorough  their 
study  of  the  grandest  subjects  of  human  interest,  the 

*  u  Such  are  the  men  whose  best  hope  for  the  world 
Is  ever  that  the  world  is  near  its  end  ; 

Impatient  of  the  stars  that  keep  their  course, 

And  make  no  pathway  for  the  coming  Judge.” 

Spanish  Gypsy. 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  181 


farther  do  they  get,  not  to,  but  from,  certainty :  the  more 
fully  they  can  see  all  sides  and  enter  into  all  considera¬ 
tions,  the  less  able  do  they  feel  to  pronounce  dogmatically 
or  to  act  decidedly.  “  The  tree  of  knowledge  is  not  that 
of  life  ” :  profound  thought,  if  thoroughly  honest  and 
courageous,  is  deplorably  apt  to  sap  the  foundation  and 
impair  the  strength  of  our  moral  as  well  as  of  our  intel¬ 
lectual  convictions.*  It  weakens  the  power  of  self- 
sacrifice  inevitably,  by  weakening  that  positive,  undoubt¬ 
ing  confidence  in  the  correctness  of  our  conclusions  and 
the  soundness  of  our  cause  from  which  all  the  great  mar¬ 
vels  of  self-sacrifice  have  sprung.  The  age  of  Martyrdom 
is  not  the  age  of  Thought.*)*  The  men  who  can  die  for  a 
faith  are  not  the  same  who  can  investigate  it  closely,  or 
judge  it  fairly.,  The  discovery  of  truth  belongs  to  an 
age  of  inquiry :  the  promulgation  and  triumph  of  a  creed 

*  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  Opium,  which  with  some  men  is 
a  wonderful  clarifier  and  intensifier  of  the  intellectual  powers,  is 
singularly  weakening  to  the  moral  nature,  appears  to  cloud  the 
conscience  and  benumb  the  will. 

t  “  Look  at  the  history  of  any  great  movement  for  good  in  the 
world,  and  ask  who  took  the  first  critical  step  in  advance.  Whom 
it  was  that  the  wavering  and  undecided  crowd  chose  to  rally  round 
as  their  leader  and  their  champion.  And  will  not  the  answer 
always  be,  as  it  was  in  the  Apostolic  age,  —  not  the  man  of  wide 
and  comprehensive  thought,  nor  of  deep  and  fervent  love,  but  the 
characters  of  simple,  unhesitating  zeal,  which  act  instead  of  reflect¬ 
ing,  which  venture  instead  of  calculating,  which  cannot  or  will  not 
see  the  difficulties  with  which  the  first  struggle  of  an  untried 
reformation  are  of  necessity  accompanied.” — Stanley,  On  the 
Apostolic  Age. 


182 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


belongs  to  an  age  of  unasking  and  unreasoning  belief. 
We  laugli  at  the  scholastic  nonsense  of  I r emeus,  and  are 
disgusted  at  the  unseemly  violence  of  Tertullian :  but 
these  men  were  ready  to  die  for  their  opinions,  and  we  are 
not.  The  fact  is,  it  is  only  minds  which  see  but  a  little 
way  that  see  clearly  and  fancy  they  see  all ;  it  is  only 
those  who  see  but  one  side  that  can  feel  confident  there 
is  no  other ;  it  is  those  only  whom  study  has  never  taught 
how  wide  is  the  question  which  seems  to  them  so  narrow 
—  how  questionable  the  facts  which  seem  to  them  so  cer¬ 
tain,  how  feeble  the  arguments  which  seem  to  them  so 
impregnable  —  that  can  be  positive  in  their  beliefs  ;  it  is 
those  only  whom  inquiry  has  never  compelled  to  abandon 
any  of  their  past  opinions  who  can  feel  sure  enough  to 
encounter  martyrdom  for  present  ones.  Philosophers  can 
neither  burn  nor  be  burned  for  a  creed :  for  after  all  may 
they  not  be  mistaken  now  as  they  have  often  been  be¬ 
fore  ?  It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  some  degree  of 
fanaticism ,  that  is,  wrong  appreciation  of  the  essential 
value  of  things,  is  not  necessary  to  prompt  the  higher 
efforts  of  self-sacrifice ;  *  whether  any  calm-judging,  far- 
seeing,  profoundly  sagacious  man  would  think  any  opinion 
certain  enough  or  any  cause  valuable  or  spotless  enough  to 
be  worth  dying  for,  except,  indeed,  the  right  of  free  action 
and  free  thought.  If  all  men  had  been  deep  thinkers,  — 
had  seen  everything  correctly,  valued  everything  at  its 
precise  worth,  measured  the  relative  importance  of  each 
object,  estimated  accurately  the  degree  of  certainty  attain¬ 
able  regarding  each  opinion  or  each  faith,  —  could  we  ever 

*  Isaac  Taylor,  “  Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm.  ” 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


183 


have  had  those  martyrs  who  have  conquered  for  us  our 
present  freedom  ?  and  who  won  it,  so  to  speak,  incidentally 
and  by  a  sort  of  iluke ;  for  they  died,  not  for  the  right  of 
every  man  to  whatever  he  thought  true,  but  for  their  right 
to  hold  and  to  proclaim  their  own  special  form  of  error. 
Where  is  the  Believer  who  does  not  now  admit  that  many 
of  these  men  went  to  the  scaffold  for  an  error,  were  mar¬ 
tyrs  by  mistake  ?  Where  is  the  Philosopher  who  does  not 
suspect  that  all  may  have  thus  nobly  blundered  ? 


In  speaking  of  the  Intellectual  faculties  it  is  probable 
that  I  have  anticipated  much  that  might  as  fittingly  have 
been  treated  under  the  head  of  Spiritual  faculties ;  for 
the  line  of  demarcation  which  separates  the  two  is  often 
faint,  obscure,  and  not  easily  definable.  And  here  I  must 
repeat  the  remark  made  at  the  opening  of  this  chapter,  as 
to  the  inevitable  looseness  and  inaccuracy  of  our  lan¬ 
guage  when  treading  this  debatable  ground.  Whether 
the  spiritual  faculties  be  in  any  true  and  specific  sense 
distinguishable  from  the  intellectual ;  or  whether,  as  is 
probably  the  case,  the  real  distinction  does  not  lie  between 
the  imaginative  and  the  ratiocinative  powers  of  mind,  I 
will  not  discuss.  In  using  the  phrase  “  Spiritual  faculties,” 
we  mean  those  powers  or  portions  of  our  mind  by  which 
we  contemplate  the  unseen,  the  immaterial,  the  Divine, 
which  take  cognizance  of  that  wide  range  of  sentiments 
and  subjects  coming  under  the  vague  denomination  of 
“  religious ,”  —  those  faculties,  in  a  word,  by  virtue  of 
which  we  commune  or  endeavor  to  commune  with  our 


184 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


God,  and  believe  in  or  are  conscious  of  a  Soul.  Now,  these 
faculties  are  not  the  most  vigorous,  piercing,  or  exalted  in 
the  strongest  frames  or  the  most  powerful  intellects,  — • 
but  rather  the  reverse  ;  and  their  highest  development  is 
reached  generally  in  the  less  sound  and  well-balanced 
cerebral  organizations,  and  under  conditions  both  of  body 
and  mind  which  either  are  morbid  or  inevitably  tend  to 
become  so.  Of  course  we  meet  with  many  healthy  and 
strong  men  who  are  pious,  and  many  able  men  who  are 
unfeignedly  devout,  and  many  eminently  religious  men 
whose  sanity  and  vigor  both  of  mind  and  body  are  above 
the  ordinary  standard  :  we  even  find  exceptional  cases 
where  the  eminently  spiritual  are  eminently  intellectual 
also ;  but  as  a  general  rule  the  observation  of  mankind 
will,  we  think,  sanction  the  above  broad  position. 

The  imaginative  faculties  are  those  by  which  we  take 
cognizance  of  and  aspire  to  things  supernal,  future,  and 
unseen,  —  “  things  spiritual  ”  in  a  word.  “  Spiritual  things 
(says  St.  Paul)  are  spiritually  discerned.”  But  the  logical 
or  reasoning  faculties  are  those  by  which  we  obtain  posi¬ 
tive  and  certain  knowledge,  and  correct  the  errors  and 
check  the  vagaries  of  the  imagination.  The  two  are  not 
exactly  antagonistic  but  reciprocally  vigilant.  We  soar 
by  the  one  ;  we  make  firm  the  ground  beneath  our  feet  by 
the  other.  By  the  one  we  conceive,  form  hypotheses,  catch 
glimpses  ;  by  the  other  we  judge,  compare,  and  sift.  The 
one  is  the  sail ;  the  other  is  the  rudder  and  the  ballast.  It 
is  natural  that  the  culmination  of  the  two  should  be  mu¬ 
tually  excluding  and  incompatible ;  and  that  which  is  the 
most  exercised  will  infallibly  become  the  strongest.  More- 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  185 


over,  the  spiritual  or  religious  imagination  is  concerned 
with  matters  of  which  the  simple  reason  can  judge  only 
partially  and  doubtingly,  as  having  defective  premises  and 
a  limited  jurisdiction ;  the  provinces  of  the  two  faculties 
are  in  a  great  measure  distinct.  The  Soul  has,  or  assumes 
to  have,  its  own  senses  and  perceptions ;  it  sees,  feels,  is 
conscious  of  things  which  the  pure  intellect  can  neither 
discern  nor  pass  judgment  upon,  —  which  lie  out  of  its 
range.  It  sometimes  conveys  to  us  information  which  the 
reason  can  pronounce  false,  because  inconsistent  with 
known  truths  ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  when  the  Spirit 
says,  “  I  know,  I  see,”  all  that  the  Intellect  can  say  is,  “  It 
may  be  so :  I  cannot  tell.” 

We  have  seen  that  it  is  the  law  of  our  being  that  the 
exclusive  or  paramount  exercise  of  any  one  part  of  our 
composite  nature  should  be  followed  by  correspondingly 
disproportionate  development  and  predominance  of  that 
part.  Hence  we  need  feel  no  surprise  at  observing  that 
many  of  the  most  magnificent  and  comprehensive  intellects 
the  world  has  known,  even  when  gifted  with  fine  imagi¬ 
nations,  have  not  been  peculiarly  or  obviously  “  spiritually- 
minded,”  —  rather  the  contrary.  The  very  acuteness  and 
vigor  of  their  reason  taught  them  to  distrust  what  may  be 
called  the  Senses  of  the  Soul,  and  to  avoid  cultivating 
what  they  believed  a  misleading  and  a  dangerous  faculty. 
The  converse  of  this  proposition  is  equally  true.  Few  of 
those  in  whom  the  religious  element  has  been  dispropor- 
tionally  developed  have  been  men  of  the  soundest  or  most 
powerful  minds.  Often  they  have  been  gifted  with  bril¬ 
liant  eloquence  and  poetic  genius  of  an  elevated  order : 


/ 


186 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


often  have  they,  in  virtue  of  these  gifts,  and  aided  by  that 
earnestness  of  purpose  and  tenacity  of  aim  which  strong 
religious  convictions  bestow  in  surpassing  measure,  been 
able  to  sway  the  minds  of  men  and  to  guide  the  destinies 
of  the  world  far  more  powerfully  than  philosophers  or 
sages  ;  but  they  have  exercised  this  influence  in  virtue  of 
their  moral  and  not  their  intellectual  qualities.  Wisdom 
has  a  poor  chance  against  the  zeal  of  an  unhesitating  con¬ 
viction.  The  weakest  of  the  wise  men  who  smiled  or 
mourned  over  the  crusading  folly  of  the  Middle  Ages  had 
probably  a  larger  and  sounder  intellect  than  Peter  the 
Hermit  and  all  his  fanatical  compeers  ;  yet  the  latter  were 
omnipotent  and  the  former  were  unheard  or  trampled 
under  foot. 

But  further :  the  paramount  cultivation  of  the  spiritual 
powers,  the  concentration  of  the  mind  on  religious  con¬ 
templation,  while  we  can  wrell  believe  it  may  and  must 
strengthen  that  faculty  of  insight  (if  indeed  the  existence 
of  such  faculty  be  not  altogether  a  delusion)  from  which 
all  our  glimpses  of  the  unseen  world,  all  our  loftier  and 
deeper  spiritual  conceptions,  are  derived,  is,  as  is  too  sadly 
known,  one  of  the  most  frequent  and  certain  causes  of 
insanity.*  Hot  only  is  it  not  favorable  to  health  and 

*  Many  of  us  are  familiar  with  Sir  James  Mackintosh’s  beautiful 
letter  to  his  intimate  friend,  Robert  Hall,  perhaps  the  finest  spiritual 
intellect  of  our  generation,  on  his  recovery  from  an  attack  of  in¬ 
sanity  :  —  . 

“  It  is  certain  the  child  may  be  too  manly,  not  only  for  his  present 
enjoyments,  but  for  his  future  prospects.  Perhaps,  my  friend,  you 
have  fallen  into  this  error  of  superior  natures.  From  this  error  has, 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  187 


strength  of  intellect,  but  it  often  upsets  the  intellect  alto¬ 
gether.  The  topics  of  reflection  are  so  awful  and  so  grand, 
the  tension  of  mind  required  to  grasp  them  is  so  great,  the 
glimpses  gained  or  fancied  are  so  dazzling,  the  whole 
atmosphere  of  thought  is  so  ethereal,  that  more  than  ordi¬ 
nary  strength  of  nerve  and  brain  must  be  needed  to  ward 
off  the  natural  results.  Where  the  ineffable  mysteries  of 
the  Divine  Presence  and  the  Unseen  World  are  truly  real - 
- izcd, —  where  we  try  to  “live  as  seeing  Hwi  who  is  in¬ 
visible,”  —  how  can  that  calmness,  which  is  essential  to 
wisdom,  that  sense  of  proportion  on  which  sanity  depends, 
be  maintained  ?  Our  most  daring  spiritual  flights,  our 
furthest  spiritual  glimpses,  then,  are  attained  only  at  an 
awful  risk,  and  by  brains  on  the  verge  and  in  immediate 
peril  of  unsoundness.  It  may  even  be  that  it  is  a  certain 
incipient  disorder  of  mind  or  tendency  to  such  disorder 
which  predisposes  men  to  these  dangerously  exciting 
topics. 

We  shall  be  reminded,  probably,  that  there  was  One 
who  once  walked  upon  the  earth  in  whom  the  spiritual 

I  think,  arisen  that  calamity  with  which  it  has  pleased  Providence 
to  visit  you,  which  I  regard  in  you  as  little  more  than  the  indignant 
struggles  of  a  pure  mind  with  the  low  realities  around  it,  —  the  fer¬ 
vent  aspirations  after  regions  more  congenial  to  it,  —  and  a  momen¬ 
tary  blindness  produced  by  the  fixed  contemplation  of  objects  too 
bright  for  human  vision.  I  may  say  in  this  case,  in  a  far  grander 
sense  than  that  in  which  the  words  were  originally  spoken  by  our 
great  Poet  :  — 

1  And  yet  the  light  that  led  astray 
Was  light  from  heaven.’  ” 

Memoir  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh ,  I.  253. 


188 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  intellectual  elements  of  character  were  not  only  in 
perfect  harmony,  hut  reached  the  fullest  development  of 
both.  To  those,  however,  who  believe  that  Jesus  was 
more  than  Man  ;  to  those,  even,  who  believe  that  though 
not  strictly  Divine,  he  was,  for  a  special  purpose,  endowed 
with  an  exceptional  organization,  we  may  reply  that,  on 
their  supposition,  his  case  confirms  rather  than  impugns 
our  general  position.  If,  for  the  attainment  of  this  two¬ 
fold  perfectness,  supernatural  endowment  were  required, 
it  follows  that  ordinary  humanity  must  rest  content  with 
a  more  humble  or  one-sided  development.  Those,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  imagine  Jesus,  though  splendidly  and 
rarely  gifted,  to  have  been  perfect  only  within  the  attain¬ 
able  limits  of  humanity,  —  i.  e.  not  to  have  been  Divine, 
but  only  the  possible  ideal  of  the  human,  —  will  not  feel 
offended  by  the  suggestion,  that  an  unprepossessed  observer 
would  assign  to  Christ  not  a  philosophical  but  a  purely 
spiritual  pre-eminence;  that  we  should  not  look  upon 
him  as  the  greatest  Thinker,  even  on  religious  topics,  that 
Humanity  has  given  forth,  but  as  the  one  Who  most  truly 
conceived  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  realized  that  conformity 
with  His  will  which  we  are  told  should  be  the  aim  of  our 
being  here,  and  which  we  believe  will  be  the  loftiest  at¬ 
tainment  of  our  life  hereafter.  If  we  are  right  as  to  the 
intrinsic  distinction  and  usual  discrepancy  between  intel¬ 
lectual  and  spiritual  supremacy,  we  see  at  once  the  mistake, 
and  how  deep  it  lies,  of  those,  on  the  one  hand,  who  con¬ 
ceive  that,  because  Christ  is  our  perfect  pattern  and  our 
spiritual  ideal,  he  must  necessarily  be  also  the  depositary 
of  all  truth  and  the  teacher  of  perfect  wisdom,  and  of  those 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  189 


on  the  other,  who  finding  him  intellectually  limited  and 
in  error,  conclude  thence  that  he  could  not  be  the  Divine 
Example  which  they  yet  feel  instinctively  that  he  was.* 

Further:  We  find  that  the  spiritual  faculties  are  con¬ 
stantly  most  predominant  and  liable  to  the  most  extreme 
development  in  those  whose  physical  organization  is  the 
least  sound  and  strong,  and  under  those  constitutional 
conditions  which  are  unquestionably  abnormal  and  disor¬ 
dered,  or  bordering  on  such  and  tending  to  become  such. 
They  are  more  remarkable  in  women  than  in  men  ;  and 
in  those  men  whose  nervous  system  is  preternaturally  ex¬ 
citable,  disproportionably  dominant.  The  close  connection 
between  hysteria  and  what-  we  may  term  “  religiosity  ”  has 
long  been  known :  so  peculiar  is  the  predisposition  of  hys¬ 
terical  patients  to  see  spiritual  visions,  to  fall  into  religious 

*  “  Christ,  as  the  incarnate  Logos,  was  the  consummation  of  moral 
excellence,  so  far  as  that  is  compatible  with  the  unalterable  conditions 
of  humanity.  Learning  and  science  and  artistic  skill  are  not  em¬ 
braced  in  the  attributes  of  the  Logos.  In  these  respects  Christ  was 
a  man  of  his  own  age  and  nation, —  believing  and  speaking  on  all 
speculative  topics,  on  every  subject  that  stood  outside  the  conscience 
and  its  eternal  relations  with  God,  like  the  multitude  among  whom 
he  dwelt.  Through  this  inevitable  limitation  of  his  intellectual  be¬ 
ing,  he  acted  with  more  power  and  effect  on  the  spiritual  condition 
of  his  contemporaries ;  and  from  the  marked  contrast  between  the 
grandeur  and  purity  of  his  religion,  and  the  simplicity  of  his  worldly 
wisdom,  he  has  acquired  a  more  than  earthly  influence  over  the  mind 
of  ensuing  generations.  The  unrivalled  pre-eminence  of  his  spiritual 
example  we  cannot  now  deprive  of  its  claim  to  a  higher  reverence, 
by  imputing  it  to  extraordinary  philosophic  culture  or  the  perceptions 
of  an  intellect  raised  far  above  the  standard  of  his  time.” — Rev.  J.  J. 
Tay lev’s  Sermons ,  p.  75. 


190 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


trances,  to  liave  or  to  be  convinced  they  have  communica¬ 
tions  with  the  unseen  world,  that  some  physicians  regard 
these  things  as  only  phases  and  symptoms  of  that  many¬ 
faced  and  many-voiced  nervous  malady.  The  trances  to 
which  St.  Paul  was  subject,  and  in  which  he  is  believed, 
and  believed  himself,  to  be  favored  with  spiritual  manifes¬ 
tations,  appear  to  have  been  precisely  similar  to  modern 
instances  of  religious  trance.  Works  on  Medical  Psychol¬ 
ogy  abound  in  illustrative  cases,  in  which  the  exaltation 
and  preternatural  vividness  of  some  cerebral  faculties  al¬ 
most  resemble  the  development  of  a  new  sense,  and  have 
by  some  been  regarded  as  such.*  Prolonged  sleeplessness 
— _ 'pervigilium ,  as  physicians  term  it  —  is  well  known  to 
be  a  fertile  producer  of  this  exaltation  of  the  natural  pow¬ 
ers  of  vision  or  imagination.  The  old  Sages,  who  pretend¬ 
ed  to  develop  superhuman  capacities  in  human  nature, 
insisted  on  long  abstinence  from  sleep,  as  an  indispensable 
condition  of  initiation.  The  ascetic  religionists  who  dwell 

O 

so  strongly  on  the  necessity  of  fasting  for  the  production 
and  cultivation  of  religious  sentiments  and  emotions  well 
know  what  they  are  about.  Prolonged  abstinence  from 
food,  or  a  very  inadequate  amount  of  it,  has  a  specific 
effect  in  stimulating,  enhancing,  purifying,  and  intenerating 
the  devotional  part  of  our  nature  ;  in  goading  the  brain 
to  an  unnatural  state  of  susceptibility,  as  physicians  would 
say ;  in  emancipating  the  spirit  from  the  gross  shackles 
of  the  flesh,  as  Divines  would  prefer  to  express  the  same 

*  See  Wigan,  Abercrombie,  Conolly  ;  also  Bertrand,  Variety’s  cle 
VExtase.  Also  various  pamphlets,  which  may  be  called  the  litera¬ 
ture  of  “  the  unknown  tongues.” 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  191 


fact ;  in  producing  that  state  of  mind  which  it  is  usual  to 
call  specifically  spiritual.  The  same  condition  of  pre¬ 
ternatural  vividness  and  lucidity  of  mental  vision  frequent¬ 
ly  occurs  in  the  crisis  of  dangerous  fevers,  and  on  the 
approach  of  dissolution.  Schiller  and  Blanco  White,  a 
few  hours  before  they  breathed  their  last,  felt  that  “  many 
things  were  growing  clear  to  them.”  Yet  all  these  states 
are  unquestionably  morbid,  or  on  the  point  of  becoming  so. 

At  what  price  to  the  soundness  of  the  understanding 
and  the  health  of  the  natural  affections  this  special  and 
abnormal  development  of  the  spiritual  faculties  is  pur¬ 
chased,  let  the  history  of  creeds,  the  biographies  of  saintly 
men,  and  the  life  and  writings  of  the  religious  world  of 
our  own  day,  bear  sad  and  humiliating  testimony.  What 
inconceivably  monstrous  and  self-contradictory  tenets  have 
been  accepted  at  the  command  of  spiritual  visions  !  What 
delusive  information  have  not  the  excited  “  senses  of  the 
Soul  ”  imposed  on  the  bewildered  reason  !  What  irrational 
conceptions  have  not  the  keenest  understandings  often 
been  compelled  to  entertain  !  How  many  deplorable  ex¬ 
amples  have  we  had  of  men  of  the  finest  intellect  compel¬ 
ling  that  intellect  to  “  eat  dirt,”  when  the  religious  element 
in  their  composite  nature  had  fairly  got  the  upper  hand 
and  established  itself  in  the  supremacy  of  an  irresponsible 
Autocrat !  How  fearfully  omnipotent  is  excessive  relig¬ 
iosity  of  temperament  in  blinding  the  understanding  to 
the  simplest  conclusions,  in  screening  from  detection  the 
most  untenable  delusions,  in  masking  the  most  flagrant  in¬ 
consistencies,  in  preventing  us  from  recognizing  the  plain¬ 
est  truths  or  the  most  obvious  errors,  though  both  were 


192 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


written  in  sunbeams,  —  may  be  learnt  from  almost  every 
article  of  our  popular  theology.  To  such  an  extent  lias 
this  gone  that  the  antagonism  of  Faith  and  Reason  has 
been  erected  into  an  axiom,  and  the  subordination  of  the 
Understanding  to  the  Imagination  —  of  the  Intellectual 
to  the  Spiritual  faculties  —  has  been  preached  by  the  pious 
as  the  first  of  duties. 

The  sad  havoc  which  the  excessive  development  of  the 
religious  temperament  makes  in  the  natural  affections, 
where  the  intellect  has  not  been  proportionally  cultivated, 
or  has  not  been  enthroned  in  its  due  supremacy,  is  a  more 
lamentable  phenomenon  still.  Truly  it  has  “  separated 
chief  friends,”  perverted  healthy  sympathies,  “  turned 
wholesome  hearts  into  gall,”  dried  up  and  trampled  out 
all  the  sweet  humanities  of  life.  Under  its  influence 
wives  have  become  cold  to  their  husbands,  and  mothers 
cruel  to  their  children ;  the  purest  earthly  love  has  been 
withered  by  the  unnatural  competition  of  the  self-called 
divine ;  crime  it  has  gilded  with  the  hues  of  virtue,  and 
the  most  ferocious  barbarism  it  has  fancied  was  both 
clemency  and  duty.  It  has  led  those  under  its  despotic 
sway  to  look  upon  all  the  gentler  emotions,  the  tenderer 
affections,  the  more  vivid  sympathies,  with  which  God 
has  hallowed  and  beautified  our  earthly  life,  as  snares, 
weaknesses,  and  sins,  —  and  the  trampling  of  them  out  as 
the  most  acceptable  service  that  could  be  rendered  to  a 
jealous  and  engrossing  Deity.  It  has  poisoned  the  very 
source  of  all  that  is  lovely  and  endearing  in  our  com¬ 
posite  being.  It  is  to  no  purpose  to  say  that  these  effects 
are  produced  only  in  weak  and  disordered  minds  :  they 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT. 


193 


are  produced  in  minds  disordered  and  weakened  by  the 
very  process  of  spiritual  aspiration ;  they  are  produced, 
even  in  great  minds,  whenever  the  religious  element 
acquires  complete  predominance  over  the  intellectual. 
Of  course,  if  the  natural  affections  assert  their  rights,  and 
the  intellect  maintains  its  due  supremacy,  the  effects  we 
have  spoken  of  do  not  ensue  ;  but  neither,  then,  does  the 
spiritual  faculty  reach  its  culminating  point. 


If  the  position  we  have  endeavored  to  establish  in  the 
foregoing  pages  be  sound ;  if,  of  the  three  components  of 
which  man’s  complicated  nature  consists,  no  one  can 
reach  the  highest  culture  and  development  of  which  any 
one  is  susceptible,  except  by  unfairness,  injury,  or  peril  to 
the  others ;  and  if  those  faculties  especially  which  we  de¬ 
nominate  .  “  spiritual,”  and  have  been  taught  to  regard  as 
our  noblest,  can  only  attain  supremacy  under  bodily 
conditions  which  imply  or  threaten  disease,  —  then  it 

would  seem  to  follow  :  — 

0 

That  the  ideal  of  humanity  on  earth  —  the  perfection 
which  we  are  intended  to  attain  here  —  is  to  be  sought, 
not  in  the  surpassing  development  of  our  highest  faculties , 
but  in  the  harmonious  and  equal  development  of  all.  In 
proportion  as  a  man’s  physical  organization  is  neglected, 
maltreated,  or  impoverished  in  the  exclusive  or  pre¬ 
dominant  culture  of  his  understanding  or  his  imagina- 
tion,  —  or  in  proportion  as  the  religious  and  devotional 
element  within  him  is  stimulated  and  cultivated  at  the 

expense  of  the  Intellect,  —  in  that  proportion  does  he  de- 

9 


M 


194 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


part  from  his  proper  standard  and  thwart  and  traverse 
his  allotted  destiny. 

That  the  existence  of  faculties  capable  —  as  we  know 
by  actual  proof  —  of  a  degree  of  elevation  and  perfection 
which  is  only  attainable  on  earth  in  abnormal  and  dis¬ 
ordered  conditions  points  towards  a  future  state  and  a 
different  organization;  to  conditions,  in  a  word,  under 
which  the  perfection,  possible  and  therefore  designed,  of 
those  faculties  can  be  achieved.  They  can  scarcely,  we 
may  assume,  be  meant  to  remain  forever  in  an  imper¬ 
fectly  developed  state ;  yet  that  state  is  the  one  clearly 
assigned  to  them  on  earth.  With  a  more  finished  and 
ethereal  frame,  the  Intellect  will  be  able  to  strive  and 
soar  without  crushing  the  body,  or  starving  the  affections, 
or  discouraging  the  Soul ;  and  the  Soul  may  reach 
heights  unattainable  below,  and  gaze  undazzled  on  splen¬ 
dors  that  here  only  blind  and  bewilder  its  unprepared 
and  unfitted  vision. 

That  the  design  of  the  Creator,  and  therefore  the  duty 
of  man,  upon  earth,  is  not  the  highest  development  of  the 
Individual ,  but  the  perfection  of  the  Race.  The  former, 
as  we  have  seen,  must  inevitablv  be  reserved  for  other 
conditions  or  another  state  :  the  latter  is  attainable  in 
this.  Nature  has  placed,  if  not  impassable  barriers  in 
our  upward  path,  at  least  warning  beacons  against  the 
attempt  to  overleap  them.  She  has  not  only  cautioned 
us  against  the  extreme  cultivation  of  the  intellectual  and 
spiritual  man,  but  has  condemned  that  cultivation  by 
assigning  disease  as  its  inevitable  consequence  and 
condition.  In  forbidding  us  to  surpass  the  limits  of  the 


DIRECTION  OF  HUMAN  DEVELOPMENT.  195 


i thoroughly  but  harmoniously  developed  specimens  of 
Humanity,  slie  has  assigned  to  us  the  welcome  and 
feasible  task  of  bringing  up  the  whole  human  Race  to 
those  limits:  not  to  make  strong  and  healthy  frames 
into  Herculeses  and  Athletes,  not  to  make  wise  men  into 
Platos,  Bacons,  or  Goethes,  not  to  make  saintly  men  into 
Wesleys,  Xaviers,  and  St.  Bernards,  but  to  make  all  men 
vigorous  and  sane,  wise,  good,  and  holy,  in  the  measure  of 
their  just  and  well-balanced  capacity  ;  not  to  urge  the 
exceptional  few  to  still  more  exceptional  attainments, 
but  to  bring  the  many  to  the  level  of  the  few.  Two 
glorious  futures  lie  before  us :  the  progress  of  the  Bace 
here,  the  progress  of  the  Man  hereafter.  History  indi¬ 
cates  that  the  individual  man  needs  to  be  transplanted 
in  order  to  excel  the  Past.  He  appears  to  have  reached 
his  perfection  centuries  ago.  Men  lived  then  whom  we 
have  never  yet  been  able  to  surpass,  rarely  even  to  equal. 
Our  knowledge  has  of  course  gone  on  increasing,  for  that 
is  a  material  capable  of  indefinite  accumulation.  But  for 
power,  for  the  highest  reach  and  range  of  mental  and 
spiritual  capacity  in  every  line,  the  lapse  of  two  or  three 
thousand  years  has  shown  no  sign  of  increase  or  improve¬ 
ment.  What  Sculptor  has  surpassed  Phidias  ?  What 
Poet  has  transcended  Aeschylus,  Homer,  or  the  author  of 
the  Book  of  Job  ?  What  devout  Aspirant  has  soared 
higher  than  David  or  Isaiah  ?  What  Statesman  have 
modern  times  produced  mightier  or  grander  than  Peri¬ 
cles  ?  What  Patriot  Martyr  truer  or  nobler  than  Soc¬ 
rates  ?  Wherein,  save  in  mere  acquirements,  was  Bacon 
superior  to  Plato  ?  or  Hew  ton  to  Thales  or  Pythagoras  ? 


196 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Very  early  in  our  history  individual  men  heat  their  wings 
against  the  allotted  boundaries  of  their  earthly  domin¬ 
ions  ;  early  in  History  God  gave  to  the  Human  Eace  the 
types  and  patterns  to  imitate  and  approach,  but  never  to 
transcend.  Here,  then,  surely  we  see  clearly  intimated 
to  us  our  appointed  work  ;  viz.,  to  raise  the  masses  to 
the  true  standard  of  harmonious  human  virtue  and 
capacity,  not  to  strive  ourselves  to  overleap  that  stand¬ 
ard  ;  not  to  put  our  own  souls  or  brains  into  a  hot-bed, 
but  to  put  all  our  fellow-men  into  a  fertile  and  a  whole¬ 
some  soil.  If  this  be  so,  both  our  practical  course  and 
our  speculative  difficulties  are  greatly  cleared.  The  timid 
fugitives  from  the  duties  and  temptations  of  the  world, 
the  selfish  coddlers  and  nursers  of  their  own  souls,  the  sed¬ 
ulous  cultivators  either  of  a  cold  intellect  or  of  a  fervent 
Spiritualism,  have  alike  mistaken  their  mission,  and 
turned  their  back  upon  their  goal.  The  Philanthropists, 
in  the  measure  of  their  wisdom  and  their  purity  of  zeal, 
are  the  real  fellow-workmen  of  the  Most  High.  This 
principle  may  give  us  the  clew  to  many  dispensations 
which  at  first  seem  dark  and  grievous,  to  the  grand  scale 
and  the  distracting  slowness  of  Nature’s  operations  ;  to 
her  merciless  inconsideration  for  the  individual  where 
the  interests  of  the  Eace  are  in  question.*  Noble  souls 
are  sacrificed  to  ignoble  masses ;  the  good  champion  often 
falls,  the  wrong  competitor  often  wins :  but  the  Great 
Car  of  Humanity  moves  forward  by  those  very  steps 
which  revolt  our  sympathies  and  crush  our  hopes,  and 
which,  if  we  could,  we  would  have  ordered  otherwise. 

*  “  So  careful  of  the  type  she  seems, 

So  careless  of  the  single  life.”  —  In  Memoricim. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


OME  men  seem  to  be  sent  into  the  world  for  pur- 


poses  of  action  only.  Their  faculties  are  all  strung 
up  to  toil  and  enterprise  ;  their  spirit  and  their  frame  are 
alike  redolent  of  energy.  They  pause  and  slumber  like 
other  men,  but  it  is  only  to  recruit  from  actual  fatigue ; 
they  occasionally  want  quiet,  but  only  as  a  refreshment 
to  prepare  them  for  renewed  exertion,  not  as  a  normal 
condition  to  be  wished  for  or  enjoyed  for  itself.  They 
need  rest,  not  repose.  They  investigate  and  reflect,  but 
only  to  estimate  the  best  means  of  attaining  their  ends, 
or  to  measure,  the  value  of  their  undertaking  against  its 
cost :  they  think,  they  never  meditate.  Their  mission, 
their  enjoyment,  the  object  and  condition  of  their  exist¬ 
ence  is  work  :  they  could  not  exist  here  without  it ;  they 
cannot  conceive  another  life  as  desirable  without  it. 
Their  amount  of  vitality  is  beyond  that  of  ordinary  men ; 
they  are  never  to  be  seen  doing  nothing ;  when  doing 
nothing  else  they  are  always  sleeping.  Happy  Souls  ! 
Happy  men ,  at  least ! 

There  are  others  who  skim  over  the  surface  of  life, 
reflecting  just  as  little  as  these  and  not  reposing  much 


200 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


oftener ;  whose  sensibilities  are  quick,  whose  tempera¬ 
ments  are  cheerful,  whose  frames  are  naturally  active  but 
not  laborious ;  on  whom  nature  and  the  external  world 
play  as  on  a  stringed  instrument,  sometimes  drawing  out 
sweet  sounds,  sometimes  discordant  ones  ;  but  whom  the 
inner  world  seldom  troubles  with  any  intimation  of  its 
existence ;  men  whom  the  interests  of  the  day  suffice  to 
occupy ;  the  depths  of  whose  souls  are  never  irradiated  by 
gleams  or  stirred  by  breezes  “  from  a  remoter  life.”  They 
too  are  to  be  envied.  The  bees  and  the  butterflies  are 
alike  happy.* 

There  are  other  spirits  whom  God  lias  cast  in  a  differ¬ 
ent  mould,  or  framed  of  less  harmonious  substance  ;  men 
gifted  with  that  contemplative  faculty  which  is  a  blessing 
or  a  curse  according  as  it  is  linked  with  a  cheerful  or  a 
melancholy  temperament ;  according  as  it  is  content  to 
busy  itself  only  with  derivative  and  secondary  matters, 
or  dives  down  to  the  hidden  foundation  of  things  ;  accord¬ 
ing  as  it  assumes  and  accepts  much,  or  is  driven  by  its 
own  necessity  to  question  everything ;  according  as  it  can 
wander  happily  and  curiously  among  the  flowers  and  fruit 
of  the  Tree  of  Life,  or  as  it  is  dangerously  impelled  to 
dig  about  its  roots  and  analyze  the  soil  in  which  it  grows. 
To  such  men  existence  is  one  long  note  of  interrogation, 

*  “  Happy  the  many  to  whom  Life  displays 
Only  the  flaunting  of  its  Tulip-flower  ; 

Whose  minds  have  never  bent  to  scrutinize 
Into  the  maddening  riddle  of  the  Root,  — 

Shell  within  shell,  dream  folded  over  dream.” 

R.  M.  Milnes. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


201 


and  the  universe  a  storehouse  of  problems  all  clamorous 
for  solution.  The  old  fable  of  the  Sphinx  is  true  for 
them :  life  is  the  riddle  they  have  to  read,  and  death, 
sadness,  or  the  waste  of  years,  is  the  penalty  if  they  fail 
to  interpret  it  aright.  A  few,  perhaps,  may  find  the  key, 
and  reach  “the  peace  that  passeth  understanding.”  A 
larger  number  fancy  they  have  found  it,  and  are  serene  in 
their  fortunate  delusion.  Others  retire  from  the  effort, 
conscious  that  they  have  been  baffled  in  the  search, *but, 
partly  in  weariness,  partly  in  trust,  partly  in  content, 
acquiescing  in  their  failure.  Others,  again,  and  these  too 
often  the  nobler  and  the  grander  souls,  reach  the  verge  of 
their  pilgrimage  still  battling  with  the  dark  enigma,  and 
dying  less  of  age  or  malady  than  of  the  profound  de¬ 
pression  that  must  be  the  lot  of  all  who  have  wasted  life 
in  fruitless  efforts  to  discover  how  it  should  be  spent  and 
how  regarded ;  and  which  even  a  sincere  belief  in  the 
flood  of  life  which  lies  behind  the  great  black  curtain  of 
Death,  cannot  quite  avail  to  dissipate.* 

But,  whatever  may  be  the  form  or  issue  of  the  search, 
no  man  gifted  with  the  sad  endowment  of  a  contemplative 

*  “  And  though  we  wear  out  life,  alas  ! 

Distracted  as  a  homeless  wind, 

In  beating  where  we  may  not  pass, 

In  seeking  what  we  shall  not  find  ; 

“Yet  shall  we  one  day  gain,  life  past, 

Clear  vision  o’er  our  Being’s  whole,  — 

Shall  see  ourselves,  and  learn  at  last 
Our  true  affinities  of  Soul  !  ” 


9* 


M.  Arnold. 


202 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  questioning  turn  of  mind,  can  reach  mature  life  with¬ 
out  earnest  meditation  on  the  great  problem  of  himself 
and  of  the  world,  the  inner  and  the  outer  universe ;  with¬ 
out  seeking  whence  he  came  and  whither  he  is  bound,  — 

“  The  Hills  where  his  life  rose 
And  the  Sea  to  which  it  goes.” 

He  yearns  to  know  the  meaning  of  existence,  its  aim  and 
purport ;  in  what  light  he  is  to  look  upon  it,  in  what  way 
he  is  to  use  it.  The  necessities  of  his  nature  forbid  him 
to  lead  a  provisional  life,  either  mentally  or  morally  ;  he 
wants  to  sail,  he  cannot  be  content  to  drift;  he  must 
know  his  haven  and  steer  his  course.  Sentient  and  con¬ 
scious  existence  to  him  is  a  problem  to  be  solved,  not  a 
summer  day  to  be  enjoyed ;  at  least  he  must  ascertain 
whether  it  is  this  last,  before  he  can  tranquilly  accept 
even  its  joys.  He  is,  and  must  ever  be 

“  A  Being  holding  large  discourse, — 

Looking  before  and  after.” 


What  then  is  Human  Life,  its  significance,  its  aim.  its 
mission,  its  goal  ? 

To  the  opening  mind  —  at  least  when  so  placed  as  to 
be  exempt  from  the  sordid  cares  and  necessities  of  a  mere 
material  existence — it  seems  like  a  delicious  feast:  the 
most  magnificent  banquet  ever  spread  by  a  kind  Creator 
for  a  favored  creature,  the  amplest  conceivable  provision 
for  a  Being  of  the  most  capacious  and  various  desires. 
The  surface  of  the  earth  is  strewed  with  flowers :  the 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


2Q3 


path  of  years  is  paved  and  planted  with  enjoyments. 
Every  sort  of  beauty  has  been  lavished  on  our  allotted 
home,  beauties  to  enrapture  every  sense,  beauties  to  satisfy 
every  taste.  Forms  the  noblest  and  the  loveliest,  colors 
the  most  gorgeous  and  the  most  delicate,  odors  the  sweet¬ 
est  and  the  subtlest,  harmonies  the  most  soothing  and  the 
most  stirring ;  the  sunny  glories  of  the  day,  the  pale, 
Elysian  grace  of  moonlight,  the  lake,  the  mountain,  the 
primeval  forest,  and  the  boundless  ocean  ;  “  silent  pinna¬ 
cles  of  aged  snow  ”  in  one  hemisphere,  the  marvels  of 
tropical  luxuriance  in  another ;  the  serenity  of  sunsets ; 
the  sublimity  of  storms  ;  everything  is  bestowed  in  bound¬ 
less  profusion  on  the  scene  of  our  existence  :  we  can  con¬ 
ceive  or  desire  nothing  more  exquisite  or  perfect  than 
what  is  round  us  every  hour.  And  our  perceptions  are 
so  framed  as '  to  be  consciously  alive  to  all.  The  pro¬ 
vision  made  for  our  sensuous  enjoyment  is  in  overflowing 
abundance :  so  is  that  for  the  other  elements  of  our  com¬ 
plex  nature.  Who  that  has  revelled  in  the  opening 
ecstasies  of  a  young  imagination  or  the  rich  marvels  of 
the  world  of  Thought  does  not  confess  that  the  Intelli¬ 
gence  has  been  dowered  at  least  with  as  profuse  a  benefi¬ 
cence  as  the  Senses !  Who  that  has  truly  tasted  and 
fathomed  human  love  in  its  dawning  and  its  crowning 
joys  has  not  thanked  God  for  a  felicity  which  indeed 
“  passeth  understanding  ”  !  If  we  had  set  our  fancy  to 
picture  a  Creator  occupied  solely  in  devising  delight  for 
children  whom  he  loved,  we  could  not  conceive  one  single 
element  of  bliss  which  is  not  here.  We  might  retrench 
casualties ;  we  might  superadd  duration  and  extension ; 


2P4 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


we  might  make  that  which  is  partial,  occasional,  and 
transient,  universal  and  enduring ;  but  we  need  not,  and 
we  could  not,  introduce  one  new  ingredient  of  joy. 

So  varied  and  so  lavish  is  the  provision  made  for  the 
happiness  of  man  upon  this  earth,  that  we  feel,  intuitively 
and  irresistibly,  that  Earth  was  designed  to  be  a  scene  of 
enjoyment  to  him ;  that  it  was  created  and  arranged 
expressly  for  this  end ;  nor  can  either  sophistry  or  sad 
experience,  in  any  sound  and  really  sincere  mind,  impair 
this  conviction.  We  feel  at  once  that  there  is  something 
crumbling  in  the  premises  and  rotten  in  the  logic  that 
can  ever  attempt  to  persuade  us  of  the  contrary.  It  is 
true  that  we  see  around  us  much  suffering ;  that  the  mass 
of  men  are  happy  only  partially,  fitfully,  imperfectly ; 
that  no  man  is  as  happy  as  the  provision  made  for  him 
indicates  that  he  ought  to  be.  But  this  neither  does 
shake  our  conviction,  nor  should  it.  Eor  the  more  we 
study  Nature,  the  more  do  we  attain  the  certainty  that 
nearly  all  this  positive  suffering  and  scanty  joy  is  trace¬ 
able  to  our  neglect  or  transgression  of  her  laws,  not  to 
the  inadequate  provision  made  for  human  happiness,  but 
to  our  unskilful  use  of  that  provision ;  that  the  misery 
now  prevalent  is  not  a  consequence  of  Nature’s  original 
or  ultimate  design,  but  a  contravention  or  postponement 
of  that  design. 

This  is  truth,  but  not  the  whole  truth,  nor  the  only 
truth.  Life  was  spread  as  a  banquet  for  pure,  noble,  un¬ 
perverted  natures,  and  may  be  such  to  them,  ought  to  be 
such  to  them,  is  often  such  now,  will  be  such  always  and 
to  all  in  future  and  better  ages.  But,  as  at  the  Egyptian 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


205 


festivals,  so  at  the  great  festival  of  existence,  a  veiled 
spectre  ever  sits  to  remind  us  that  all  is  not  said,  that 
the  word  of  the  enigma  is  not  yet  deciphered.  Even  when, 
centuries  of  progress  shall  have  realized  the  Earth’s  ideal, 
Life  can  never  be  solely  or  completely  a  Drama  of  holy 
and  serene  delights,  so  long  as  Death  stands  forever  by  to 
close  it  with  a  Tragedy. 

And  this  will  always  be  so.  Prudence  and  temperance 
may  lengthen  life  ;  Science  may  reduce  casualties  and 
mitigate  disease  ;  fewer  may  be  cut  off  in  infancy  ;  more 
may  reach  the  possible  limit  of  earthly  duration  ;  a  larger 
and  larger  number  in  each  successive  age  may  be  allowed 
to  play  out  the  whole  piece  :  but  when  all  is  done,  life, 
longer  or  shorter,  monies  to  the  same  end ;  if  those  we  love 
do  not  go  from  us  early,  if  the  things  we  are  concerned  in 
interest  us  to  the  last,  still  the  day  comes  —  and  is  always 
in  'prospect  —  when  we  are  called  upon  to  leave  all  that 
has  gladdened  the  eye,  enchanted  the  ear,  stirred  the  in¬ 
tellect,  soothed  and  satisfied  the  heart,  —  to  abandon  the 
only  scene  we  have  ever  gazed  at,  to  close  the  only  book 
we  have  ever  read  in,  to  exchange  the  known  for  the  un¬ 
known, —  to  'go  out ,  —  to  cease,  or  appear  to  cease,  to  be. 
Death  is  even  more  than  this,  though  we  are  accustomed 
to  disguise  it  to  ourselves  with  gentle  words  and  beautiful 
fancies  and  glorious  anticipations.  We  may  speak  of  it 
as  an  exchange  of  one  sort  of  an  existence  for  another,  — 
of  a  disappointing  reality  for  a  perfected  ideal ;  as  “  walk¬ 
ing  into. a  great  darkness  ”  ;  as  “long  disquiet  merged  in 
rest  ”  ;  as  entering  upon  untrodden  and  inviting  worlds ; 
as  launching  forth  upon  waters  of  which  the  darkest  feat- 


20G 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


ure  is  that  we  cannot  see,  but  must  be  content  to  believe 
in,  the  farther  shore. 

“  Or  we  can  sit 

In  serious  calm  beneath  deciduous  trees, 

And  count  the  leaves,  scarce  heavier  than  the  air, 

Which  leave  the  branch  and  tremble  to  the  ground  ; 

Or,  out  at  midnight  in  a  gliding  boat, 

Enjoy  the  waning  moon,  and  moralize, 

And  say  that  Death  is  but  a  Mediator 
Between  the  lower  and  the  loftier  life.” 

But  these  are  all  figures  of  speech.  They  may  express  a 
truth  :  we  strongly  believe  they  do.  But  they  do  not  ex¬ 
press  the  simple  fact  of  Death  as  it  strikes  our  unsophisti¬ 
cated  sense ;  as  our  natures  regard  it  before  religion  or 
philosophy  has  imposed,  or  endeavored  to  impose,  silence 
on  the  instincts  of  the  heart.  To  these  native  instincts 
Death  is  the  great  “  sleep  which  rounds  our  little  life,” 
it  is  a  wrench  from  all  that  has  made  up  our  being  for 
long  years  of  thought,  sense,  and  feeling ;  it  is  a  loss  of 
the  only  existence  we  can  truly  realize;  not  journeying 
into  a  new  country,  but  obviously,  ostensibly,  so  far  as  all 
appearances  go,  an  end  of  the  journey  we  have  travelled 
for  so  long.  We  need  not  deceive  ourselves.  Death,  even 
to  the  most  fervent  believers  in  the  Great  Hope,  can  never 
be  other  than  a  Mystery :  to  others  it  must  remain  God’s 
saddest,  deepest,  most  disturbing  mystery. 

It  must  be  so  to  all.  The  gayest  and  most  joyous  spirit 
that  ever  sported  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  has  this 
tragic  element  as  inextricably  interwoven  with  its  life  as 
any  of  us.  The  refined,  the  loving,  the  tender,  and  the 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


207 


noble,  —  whose  existence  has  been  one  beautiful  and  har¬ 
monious  poem,  —  the  music  of  whose  nature  has  never 
jarred,  —  who  have  extracted  from  their  career  on  earth 
every  pure  delight,  every  permitted  ecstasy  of  the  senses 
and  the  soul  which  the  Creator  fitted  it  to  render,  —  find 
the  same  inexorable  Darkness  awaiting  them  at  the  end 
of  their  pilgrimage,  if  not  breaking  it  off  abruptly  in  its 
brightest  and  most  perfect  hour.  The  mightiest  Intelli¬ 
gences,  who  have  put  life  to  heroic  uses,  who  have  waged 
noble  warfare  and  toiled  for  noble  ends,  who  have  “  rowed 
hard  against  the  stream,”  who  have  enrolled  themselves 
in  the  glorious  army  of  God’s  warriors  and  workmen,  — 
these,  too,  know  that  they  may  every  hour  expect  the  fall¬ 
ing  of  the  curtain ;  and  that,  fall  when  it  may,  it  is  sure 
to  find  them  with  their  work  unfinished  and  their  goal 
unreached.  Those  who  most  enjoy  life,  and  those  who 
best  employ  it,  must  close  it  amid  the  same  impenetrable 
shadows. 

And  this  solemn  fact  is  not  merely  a  distant  certainty, 
to  which  we  may  shut  our  eyes  till  the  time  comes  :  it  is 
everywhere  before  us;  it  forces  itself  on  our  attention, 
forbids  us  to  forget  it.  It  does  not  merely  await  us  at  the 
close  of  our  journey ;  it  crosses  us  at  every  step,  its  alarum 
startles  us  every  hour  ;  it  insists  on  being  a  constant  guest, 
at  our  homes,  or  in  our  thoughts.  We  must  reckon  with 
it ;  wre  cannot  put  it  by  ;  it  gives  us  no  peace  till  we  turn 
manfully  to  face  it,  to  wrestle  with  it,  to  understand  it,  to 
settle  with  ourselves  how  we  intend  to  regard  it  during 
life  and  to  meet  it  when  it  comes.  It  continues  the  most 
waylayiny  thought  of  the  thoughtful  man,  till  he  silences 


208 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


its  importunity  by  listening  to  all  it  has  to  say,  and  reason¬ 
ing  it  back  into  the  tomb, 

“  Or  place  it  in  some  chamber  of  the  soul, 

Where  it  may  lie  unseen  as  sound,  yet  felt ,  — 

Making  life  hushed  and  awful.” 


Again,  Life  is  a  scene  of  much  suffering  and  sorrow.  It 
is  true,  as  I  have  argued,  that  a  vast  amount,  probably  far 
the  greatest  amount,  of  this  is  gratuitous  and  avoidable. 
Much  of  it  arises  from  ignorance  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
which  the  growing  wisdom  of  centuries  will  dissipate. 
Much  of  it  arises  from  a  violation  of  physiological  and 
moral  obligations,  which,  in  the  course  of  ages,  the  human 
race  will  learn  /almost  universally  to  obey.  Much  of  it 
arises  from  social  errors  which  we  have  already  begun  to 
recognize  as  errors ;  much  from  a  discrepancy  between  our 
theory  and  our  practice  which  we  are  even  now  awakening 
to  the  necessity  of  removing.  A  vast  proportion  of  the 
evils  which  we  see  around  us  vre  know  to  be  curable, 
and  we  think  we  see  the  mode  and  the  epoch  of  their 
cure.  The  more  sanguine  among  us  are  already  dream¬ 
ing  of  the  day  when  the  actual  of  Humanity  shall  ap¬ 
proach  within  sight  of  its  ideal,  and  when  the  original  pro¬ 
gramme  of  the  Creator  shall  at  all  events  be  approximately 
realized. 

But  when  all  this  has  been  done, —  to  say  nothing  of 
the  long  ages  of  the  Meanwhile, —  when  the  perfection 
of  a  nature  inherently  imperfect  shall  have  been  reached, 
—  there  will  still  remain  a  large  residuum  of  grief  and 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


209 


pain  incapable  of  avoidance  or  elimination,  and  which 
we  must  therefore  accept  as  one  of  the  permanent  elements 
of  the  problem  presented  to  us  for  solution.  Life,  as 
constituted  by  God,  not  as  spoiled  by  man,  is  not  only  a 
scene  of  designed  enjoyment,  terminated  by  a  strange, 
mysterious,  and  almost  contradictory  crisis :  it  is  a  scene 
also  of  inalienable  suffering,  —  a  scene  whose  habitual 
harmonies  are  jarred  upon  by  discordant  sounds,  whose 
bright  skies  must  at  times  be  overcast  by  clouds  of  por¬ 
tentous  darkness,  whose  hymns  of  praise  and  paeans  of 
rejoicing  will  often  be  exchanged  for  the  sharp  cry  of 
pain  and  the  wail  of  inextinguishable  grief.  Perfect  our 
nature  and  our  social  systems  as  we  may,  there  will  still 
be  casualties  to  stretch  us  on  a  bed  of  anguish  to  which 
no  skill  can  bring  effective  or  permanent  relief ;  there  will  * 
still  be  chambers  of  long  and  wearing  sickness  where 
the  assiduities  of  the  tenderest  friends  cannot  hinder  the 
sufferer  from  longing  for  the  visit  of  the  last,  mightiest, 
kindest  friend  of  all.  There  will  still  be  bereavements 
of  the  affections,  not  always  created  by  the  grave ;  sever¬ 
ances  of  Soul,  for  which  there  is  neither  balm  nor  lethe  ; 
vacant  places  by  the  hearthstone  which  no  form  again 
may  fill :  and  as  long  as  generation  succeeds  generation 
and  families  are  linked  together ;  as  long  as  the  young 
are  coming  on  the  stage  while  the  old  are  leaving  it ;  as 
long  as  Nature  commands  us  to  cling  so  passionately  to 
what  we  yet  must  lose  so  certainly  and  may  lose  so  sud¬ 
denly  and  so  soon ;  as  long  as  Love  continues  the  most 
imperious  passion,  and  Death  the  surest  fact,  of  our  min¬ 
gled  and  marvellous  humanity,  so  long  will  the  sweetest 


N 


210 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  truest  music  upon  earth  be  always  in  the  minor 
key.* 

And  in  “  the  long  meanwhile  ”  —  during  which  the 
goal  of  human  attainment  is  scarcely  perceptibly  ap¬ 
proached  —  the  world  does  seem  such  a  stumbling  botch 
and  muddle  ;  Man  himself  is  such  a  “  piebald  miscel¬ 
lany  ”  with  his 

“  Bursts  of  great  heart,  and  slips  in  sensual  mire  ”  ; 

the  discrepancy  is  so  vast  between  our  highest  actual  and 
our  most  moderate  ideal ;  the  follies  of  men  are  so  utterly 
astounding,  to  one  who  has  seen  them  close ;  their  weak¬ 
nesses  so  profoundly  despicable ;  their  vices  so  unspeak¬ 
ably  revolting ;  their  virtues,  even,  so  casual,  halting,  and 
hollow ;  Life  is  such  “  a  comedy  to  those  that  think,  such 
a  tragedy  to  those  that  feel  ” ;  its  pages  are  so  sadly, 
incomprehensibly  grotesque  !  Generation  after  generation 
of  the  young  rush  sanguinely  into  the  arena,  confident 
that  they  can  solve  the  puzzle,  confident  that  they  can 
win  the  victory.  Generation  after  generation  of  the  old 
step  down  into  the  grave  baffled  and  bewildered,  vexed  at 
the  dreary  retrospect,  mortified  at  the  memory  of  long 
years  eagerly  wasted  in  following  “  light  that  led  astray,” 
mourning  over  brilliant  banners  torn  and  soiled,  over 
heights  still  unsealed,  over  fields  and  trenches  filled  with 

*  “We  look  before  and  after, 

And  pine  for  what  is  not, 

E’en  our  sincerest  laughter 
With  some  pain  is  fraught  ; 

Our  sweetest  songs  are  those  which  tell  of  saddest  thought.” 

Shelley. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


211 


the  martyrs  of  Humanity.  The  drama  can  be  only  half 
discerned,  or  half  played  out ;  or  it  may  be  that  we  have 
not  yet  got  the  clew  to  the  meaning  of  the  Most  High. 

Yet,  perhaps,  if  we  consider  patiently  enough,  some 
conclusions  may  be  reached,  some  light  may  be  seen  to 
move  over  the  dark  and  restless  waters,  imperfect  and 
fragmentary  indeed,  yet  not  altogether  inadequate,  —  not 
enough  for  a  philosophic  scheme,  nor  yet  for  a  dogmatic 
creed,  but  enough  for  a  trusting  faith,  enough  to  guide 
and  quiet  us  in  life,  enough  to  enable  us  to  bear  to  die. 


That  life  was  given  us  to  be  enjoyed,  few  men  in  their 
sober  senses,  not  distracted  by  unendurable  anguish  or 
rendered  morbid  by  a  perverse  theology,  have  ever 
seriously  dreamed  of  doubting.  The  analogy  of  the 
lower  animals  confirms  the  common  consciousness.  Hu¬ 
man  infancy  holds  the  same  language.  The  brutes  that 
perish,  but  never  speculate,  and  the  young  whose  native 
instincts  are  not  yet  marred  by  thought,  alike  listen  to 
nature  and  alike  are  joyous.  The  earth  is  sown  with 
pleasures,  as  the  Heavens  are  studded  with  stars,  — 
wherever  the  conditions  of  existence  are  unsophisticated. 
Scarcely  a  scene  that  is  not  redolent  of  beauty  ;  scarcely 
a  flower  that  does  not  breathe  sweetness.  Hot  one  of 
our  senses  that,  in  its  healthy  state,  is  not  an  avenue  to 
enjoyment.  Hot  one  of  our  faculties  that  it  is  not  a 
delight  to  exercise.  Provision  is  made  for  the  happiness 
of  every  disposition  and  of  every  taste,  —  the  active,  the 
contemplative,  the  sensuous,  the  ethereal.  Provision  is 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


91  9 

-t.  -J 


made  fort  he  happiness  of  every  age, —  for  dancing  infancy, 
for  glowing  youth,  for  toiling  manhood,  for  reposing  age. 
So  clear  does  this  seem  to  our  apprehension,  that  we  do 
not  hesitate  to  pronounce  that  a  man  who  has  not  been 
happy  in  life  has  missed  one  of  the  aims  of  his  existence ; 
he  has  failed  of  fulfilling  the  Creator’s  purpose ;  his  career 
has  been  a  carriere  manquee.  Exceptional  cases  there  may 
be,  as  there  are  anomalous  organizations:  these  are  among 
the  “  insoluble  problems  ”  of  philosophy.  But  if  a  man 
with  the  material  of  enjoyment  around  him  and  virtuously 
within  his  reach  walks  God’s  earth  wilfully  and  obsti¬ 
nately  with  a  gloomy  spirit  and  an  ascetic  temper,  closing 
his  eye  to  beauty,  shutting  up  his  heart  to  joy,  paying 
his  orisons  in  groans,  and  making  misery  his  worship,  we 
feel  assured  that  he  is  contravening  his  Maker’s  design 
in  endowing  him  with  life ;  he  is  perverting  His  gifts  ;  he 
is  just  as  truly  running  counter  to  God’s  wdll  by  being 
intentionally  wretched  as  by  intentionally  doing  wrong. 

Of  course,  as  wre  all  know,  there  are  circumstances  that 
peremptorily  forbid  happiness,  circumstances  when  it  can 
only  be  purchased  by  such  a  dereliction  of  duty  as  robs  it 
of  all  its  innocence  and  nearly  all  its  zest,  circumstances 
under  which  we  are  called  “  to  endure  hardness,  as  good 
soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ.”  These  cases,  wherein  happiness 
would  be  sinful,  are  just  as  much,  but  no  more ,  the  ordain- 

t 

ments  of  Providence  as  those  more  common  ones  wherein 
happiness  is  natural  and  right.  What  we  mean  to  assert 
as  a  truth  which  writes  itself  in  sunbeams  on  the  Soul,  is, 
that  God  has  given  us  the  joys  of  earth  to  be  relished,  not 
to  be  neglected,  or  depreciated,  or  forbidden  ;  to  be  grate- 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


213 


fully  accepted  as  bounties,  not  to  be  avoided  as  snares 
and  perils ;  that  He  lias  scattered  them  in  our  path,  to 
gladden  and  to  smooth,  not  to  tantalize  or  tempt ;  that 
He  has  graciously  called  us  to  the  rich  banquet  of  life,  not 
that  we  may  shrink  from  this  wholesome  viand  lest 
poison  may  lurk  beneath  its  surface,  nor  look  coldly  and 
repellently  on  that  delicious  fruit  as  if  its  beauty  were 
deceptive  and  unreal,  nor  refuse  that  splendid  flower, 
because  its  colors  must  fade,  and  because  thorns  may  be 
mingled  with  its  leaves,  nor  comport  ourselves  either  as 
if  we  were  superior  to  the  weakness  of  enjoyment,  or  as 
if  we  waited  for  a  nobler  feast :  but  that  we  should  par¬ 
take  of  all  that  He  has  given  with  the  relish  of  an 
unspoiled  nature,  the  moderation  of  a  wise  spirit,  and 
the  emotion  of  a  thankful  heart. 

Divines,  in  that  surplice  of  conventional  phraseology 
which  they  wear  once  a  week,  tell  us  that  Christianity 
teaches  us  to  look  upon  the  joys  of  earth  as  hollow,  worth¬ 
less,  transitory,  “  not  to  be  compared  to  the  glory  that 
shall  be  revealed,”  snares  to  the  weak  soul,  stumbling- 
blocks  to  the  feeble  knees,  things  to  be  scorned  by  those 
who  have  in  prospect  the  splendors  of  a  higher  world. 
“We  have  not  so  learned  Christ.”  That  the  joys  of 
earthly  life  are  poor  and  worthless  is  an  idle  lie.  That 
these  joys  are  pale,  partial,  and  passing,  when  compared 
with  the  ineffable  beatitudes  of  that  world  “  which  the 
glory  of  God  doth  enlighten,”  in  a  degree  which  language 
cannot  measure,  we  need  no  words  to  tell  us.  But  wlmt 
of  that  ?  The  bliss  of  Heaven  is  yonder,  is  future,  is 
unseen ;  the  bliss  of  earth  is  here,  is  present,  is  felt.  God 


214 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


has  given  us  the  one,  now :  he  has  not  given  us  the  other 
yet.  He  is  not  so  poor  in  felicities  or  so  niggard  in  his 
bounty  that  he  has  not  wherewithal  to  furnish  forth  two 
worlds.  He  does  not  give  us  our  choice  of  the  two :  he 
gives  us,  conditionally,  both.  If  Nature  is  indeed  His 
book,  and  if  we  are  competent  to  decipher  even  the  sim¬ 
plest  words  of  His  handwriting,  He  has  meant  us  to  be 
happy  here  and  hereafter,  perfectly  happy  hereafter,  par¬ 
tially  happy  here.  And  virtue ,  not  misery ,  is  the  appointed 
road  to  heaven.  We  are  to  earn  the  joys  of  a  higher 
existence,  not  by  scorning,  but  by  using,  all  the  gifts  of 
God  in  this. 

It  is  high  time  that  on  this  subject  we  should  in  some 
way  establish  a  conformity  between  our  professions  and 
our  practice  ;  that  we  should  no  longer  say  one  thing  and 
do  another  ;  that  integrity  and  self-government  should  not 
both  be  broken  down,  as  they  now  are,  by  the  established 
conventionalism  of  raising  a  standard  that  cannot  be  fol¬ 
lowed,  and  pursuing,  under  protest,  a  conduct  too  natural 
to  be  rationally  abandoned,  but  on  which  a  formal  con¬ 
demnation  is  periodically  uttered,  and  for  which  an  act 
of  Indemnity  as  it  were  has  to  be  periodically  passed. 
The  mischief  done  to  the  ingenuous  mind  in  its  aspira¬ 
tions  after  truth  and  virtue  by  this  flagrant  discrepancy 
between  what  is  affirmed  to  be  right  and  what  it  feels  to 
be  inevitable,  passes  calculation.  The  moment  we  clearly 
recognize  that  the  morality  which  we  hear  preached  is  a 
code  to  be  listened  to,  not  practised,  that  moment  the 
- premier  pas  qni  coute  has  been  taken,  and  the  broad  way 
that  leadeth  to  destruction  has  been  thrown  open  before 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


215 


113.  It  is  absolutely  essential,  then,  that  our  preaching 
should  be  brought  into  harmony  with,  not  our  habitual 
practice,  not  the  low-pitched  level  of  a  virtue  which  or¬ 
dinary  men  find  easy,  but  the  fair  possibilities  of  human 
goodness  and  the  wholesome  instincts  of  a  nature  fresh 

o 

from  the  hand  of  the  Creator.  It  cannot  be  right  to 
preach  anything  which  is  not  true ;  it  cannot  be  right  to 
exhort  to  anything  which  is  not  natural,  which  is  not 
possible,  and  which  would  not  be  desirable  if  it  were. 
It  is  not  right  therefore  to  represent  this  earth  as  a  vale 
of  tears,  this  life  as  a  weary  pilgrimage,  the  profuse  and 
marvellous  beauties  that  surround  us  as  the  concealing 
flowers  scattered  over  pitfalls,  the  innocent  joys  of  exist¬ 
ence  as  trials  sent  to  test  our  virtue  in  rejecting  them, 
the  pure  and  fond  affections  of  the  heart  as  snares  against 
which  we  should  be  on  our  guard,  or  as  weaknesses  to 
which  the  Christian  ought  to  rise  superior.  It  is  not 
right  to  exhort  us  to  “  Love  not  the  world,  neither  the 
things  of  the  world,”  in  the  bald  and  naked  parlance  of 
ordinary  preachers.  It  cannot  be  right  to  preach,  “  Take 
no  thought  for  the  morrow,  what  ye  shall  eat  or  what  ye 
shall  drink,  or  wherewithal  shall  ye  be  clothed,”  for  a  man 
who  should  practise  this  would  be  held  guilty  of  some¬ 
thing  worse  than  folly.  It  is  time  that  those  who  assume 
the  position  of  beacon  lights  and  guides  should  take 
serious  counsel  with  themselves,  and  ascertain  what  they 
really  think,  and  say  nothing  but  what  they  actually 
mean. 

Now,  of  three  things  we  are  all  in  our  hearts  convinced. 
We  know  that  many  of  the  best  men  have  been  also  the 


216 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


happiest.  We  have  all  known  some  men,  and  possibly 
more  women,  on  whom  the  sunshine  of  God’s  smile  most 
obviously  rested,  — 

“  Glad  hearts,  without  reproach  or  blot, 

Who  do  Thy  will  and  know  it  not,  ”  — 

whose  hearts  were  filled  with  every  human  affection,  fond, 
clinging,  passionate,  tender ;  whose  healthy  and  happy 
organization  tasted  with  intensest  relish  every  innocent 
pleasure  of  a  beckoning  world ;  whose  fresh  pure  spirits 
were  a  perpetual  fountain  of  delight ;  on  whose  soul  all 
sweet  breezes  of  life  and  nature  played  as  on  a  well-tuned 
harp,  and  brought  forth  sounds  of  richest  melody  which 
of  themselves  were  a  hymn  of  praise ;  who  loved  God 
the  more  for  loving  the  world  which  He  had  made  so 
much  ;  on  whom  it  was  impossible  not  to  believe  that 
His  eye  rested  with  far  other  satisfaction  and  approval 
than  on  the  sour  ascetic  or  the  rigid  Pharisee. 

Again :  the  desire  of  earthly  happiness  is  implanted 
deep  in  every  human  heart.  It  is  instinctive,  universal, 
ineradicable.  It  is  not  the  highest  spring  of  human  effort, 
but  it  is  the  most  widely  felt  and  the  most  intensely  active, 
and  will  remain  such  till,  in  the  course  of  upward  pro¬ 
gress  and  purification,  the  love  of  duty  takes  its  place.  It 
preserves  him  from  apathy ;  it  prohibits  despair ;  it  stimu¬ 
lates  to  ceaseless  exertion.  It  is  impossible  to  believe  that 
God  wTould  have  endowed  us  with  this  eager  yearning  after 
what  He  never  designed  us  to  attain ;  that  we  should  have 
been  thus  ordered  to  strive  for  an  object  which  yet  it  is 
sinful  to  seek  thus  earnestly  or  to  relish  thus  intensely. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


217 


The  object  for  which  we  are  gifted  with  such  an  inextin¬ 
guishable  longing  cannot  be  all  dust  and  ashes,  nor  can  it 
be  meant  that  it  should  turn  to  such  between  our  lips. 
God  is  not  the  author  of  a  lie.  If  earthly  happiness  be 
not  designed  to  be  sought,  attained,  and  enjoyed  by  men, 
then  the  teaching  of  Nature  is  deceptive  and  we  turn  over 
the  leaves  of  her  book  in  vain. 

And,  thirdly,  no  one  doubts  or  affects  to  doubt  that  we 
are  commanded  both  by  instinct  and  the  moral  sense  to 
seek  and  promote  the  happiness  of  others.  To  relieve  suf¬ 
fering,  to  soothe  distress,  to  confer  pleasure,  to  dry  the 
tears  of  the  afflicted,  to  spread  comfort  and  joy  around  us, 
is,  we  are  taught,  the  noblest  function  in  which  man  can 
spend  his  brightest  years  and  his  freshest  strength.  Are 
not  those  whose  lives  and  powers  are  devoted  to  the  task 
of  spreading  happiness  around  them  felt  to  be,  in  an 
especial  manner,  “  fellow-laborers  with  God,”  carrying- 
out  His  purposes,  doing  His  work  ?  Are  not  those  who 
“  go  about  doing  good  ”  recognized  at  once  as  the  peculiar 
disciples  of  His  exactest  image  upon  earth  ?  Do  we 
not  measure  the  degree  in  which  men  have  deserved  the 
gratitude  of  their  species  by  the  degree  in  which  they 
have  contributed  to  assuage  trouble  and  diffuse  peace  ? 
And  what  a  hollow  and  miserable  mockerv  is  it  then  to 
say  that  this  life  was  not  meant  for  enjoyment,  when 
to  multiply  the  sum  of  human  enjoyment  is  felt  and 
proclaimed  to  be  the  most  virtuous,  sacred,  obligatory, 
godlike  work  in  which  Life  can  be  spent ! 

Nor  is  there  anything  in  the  example  of  Christ,  con¬ 
sidered  with  its  context,  which  in  the  least  militates 


10 


2.18 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


against  this  view.  Observe,  we  know  only  one  year  or 
three  years  of  Christ’s  life.  Of  the  thirty  years  that  pre¬ 
ceded  his  public  appearance  we  know  absolutely  nothing. 
Of  the  brief  period  of  his  public  career,  we  know  only  a 
few  fragmentary  facts,  selected  as  illustrating  one  phase 
of  his  character.  We  have  no  reason  whatever  for  sup¬ 
posing  that  he  did  not  enjoy  life  during  youth  and  early 
manhood.  We  have  no  reason  whatever  for  assuming 
that,  before  the  stern  solemnity  of  his  mission  threw  all 
softer  and  gentler  emotions  into  the  shade  and  gradually 
engrossed  his  whole  Being,  he  had  not  relished,  with  all 
the  intensity  of  a  healthy  nature  and  a  sensitive  organiza¬ 
tion,  every  innocent  pleasure  and  every  holy  and  serene 
delight.  We  have  indications,  that,  even  when  his  soul 
was  absorbed  in  the  terrible  grandeur  and  the  toilsome 
difficulties  of  the  “  work  which  had  been  given  him  to  do,” 
he  was  still  keenly  alive  to  the  exquisite  beauties  of  that 
world  he  was  to  quit  so  soon,  and  to  the  enjoyment  of  that 
domestic  peace  to  which  he  could  dedicate  only  moments 
so  brief  and  rare.  But  even  were  it  not  so  ;  even  if  we 
had  reason  to  suppose  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  consecrated 
from  his  youth  to  a  task  that  demanded  the  most  unlimit¬ 
ed  self-sacrifice  and  the  intensest  concentration  of  every 
faculty  and  feeling,  had  no  sensibility  to  spare  for  the 
beauty  or  the  bliss  of  earth ;  that 

“  He  looked  on  all  the  joys  of  Time 
With  undesiring  eyes,”  — 

the  fact  would  have  no  practical  antagonism  to  our  position. 
From  time  to  time  God  raises  up  individuals,  cast  in  a 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


219 


special  mould,  and  set  apart  for  a  special  destiny,  vowed  to 
a  special  work;  men  whose  entire  power,  thought,  sensibil¬ 
ities,  seem  to  lie  in  the  channel  of  their  appointed  calling, 
whose  mission  is  their  Joy,*  the  fiery  energy  of  whose  pur¬ 
pose  burns  up  every  other  longing,  the  magnitude  of  whose 
glorious  aim  dwarfs  and  smothers  every  other  object.  Of 
such  Christ  was  the  first  and  noblest :  but  such  are  no 
gauges  or  examples  for  ordinary  men,  in  ordinary  times, 
with  ordinary  powers ;  save  in  this,  that  moments  and 
circumstances  come  to  most  of  us  some  time  in  our  lives, 
which,  if  we  are  truly  noble,  we  shall  seize  with  gladness, 
when  we,  like  they,  are  called  upon  to  forego  the  lower  for 
the  higher  office  ;  to  remember  that  though  life  was  given 
us  for  enjoyment,  it  was  given  us  for  something  nobler 
also ;  and  that  the  very  happiness  of  which  it  was  designed 
to  be  the  instrument  and  the  stage  can  only  be  conclusive¬ 
ly  promoted  by  the  willing  immolation,  when  needed,  of 
itself.  God,  through  the  voice  of  Nature,  calls  the  mass 
of  men  to  be  happy :  He  calls  a  few  among  them  to  the 

grander  task  of  being  severely  but  serenely  sad. 

» 

*  “Yet  there  are  some  to  whom  a  strength  is  given, 

A  Will,  a  self-constraining  Energy, 

A  Faith  that  feeds  upon  no  earthly  hope, 

Which  never  thinks  of  Victory,  combating 
Because  it  ought  to  combat,  .... 

And,  conscious  that  to  find  in  Martyrdom 
The  stamp  and  signet  of  most  perfect  Life 
Is  all  the  science  that  Mankind  can  reach, 

Rejoicing  fights  and  still  rejoicing  falls.” 

The  Combat  of  Life,  by  It.  M.  Milnes. 


220 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


The  case,  however,  as  thus  far  stated,  is  but  fragmentary. 
The  happiness  of  the  Human  Race  is  one  of  the  designs 
of  God,  but  our  own  individual  happiness  must  not  be 
made  our  first  or  our  direct  aim.  To  the  mass  of  men,  as 
a  rule,  enjoyment  will  come  if  we  fulfil  the  laws  of  our 
Being  ;  but  it  was  not  for  this  alone,  nor  for  this  first,  that 
Life  was  given.  If  we  set  it  before  us  as  our  chief  object ; 
if  we  pursue  it  with  conscious  and  relentless  purpose  ; 
still  more  if  we  seek  it  by  any  short  cuts  or  private  path¬ 
ways  of  our  own,  or  by  any  road  save  that  by  which  Prov¬ 
idence  has  prescribed  without  engaging  that  it  shall  lead 
to  any  special  or  certain  goal  on  earth,  we  may,  or  we  may 
not,  be  happy  ;  but  assuredly  we  shall  have  failed  in  carry¬ 
ing  out  a  further  design  of  the  Creator,  - —  at  least  as  in¬ 
disputable  as  the  first,  namely,  The  Moral  Progress  and 
Perfection  of  the  Individual  and  the  Pace.  Let  us  not 
“  speak  unto  ourselves  smooth  things  and  prophesy  de¬ 
ceits.”  The  Cup  of  Life  which  God  offers  to  our  lips  is 
not  always  sweet :  it  is  an  unworthy  weakness  to  endeavor 
to  persuade  ourselves  of  such  a  falsehood ;  but,  sweet  or 
bitter,  it  is  ours  to  drink  it  without  murmur  or  demur.  It 
is  not  true  that  those  who  obey  the  laws  of  God,  and  listen 

to  his  voice,  and  follow  where  he  calls,  are  always  thereby 

* 

taking  the  surest  and  directest  way  to  an  enjoyed  exist¬ 
ence  :  sometimes  His  finger  points  in  a  precisely  opposite 
direction.  Often  —  usually  indeed — “  he  gives  happiness 
in,  gives  it  as  what  Aristotle  calls  an  eTriyvogevov  reAo? ; 
but  he  gives  it  with  a  mysterious  and  uncontrollable 
Sovereignty ;  it  is  no  part  of  the  terms  on  which  He  ad¬ 
mits  us  to  His  service,  still  less  is  it  the  end  which  we 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


221 


may  jiropose  to  ourselves  on  entering  His  service.*  Happi¬ 
ness  lie  gives  to  whom  He  will,  or  leaves  to  the  Angel  of 
Nature  to  distribute  among  those  who  fulfil  the  laws  on 
which  it  depends.  But  to  serve  God  and  love  him  is 
higher  and  better  than  happiness,  though  it  be  with 
wounded  feet,  and  bleeding  brow,  and  hearts  loaded  with 
sorrow.” 

We  have  already  dwelt  enough  on  our  conviction  that 
the  progress  of  humanity,  the  improvement  of  the  world, 
the  mitigation  of  its  anomalies,  the  extinction  of  its  woes, 
the  eradication  of  its  vices, —  in  a  word,  the  realization  of 
the  ideal  of  life,  is  the  great  design  of  God  and  the  great 
work  of  man.  But  though  the  perfectation  of  the  Race  is 
the  great,  it  is  clear  that  it  is  not  the  sole,  purpose  or  sig¬ 
nificance  of  life.  The  perfectation  of  the  Individual  is  in¬ 
dicated  by  marks  just  as  obvious.  We  are  sent  here  and 
endowed  thus,  not  only  to  do  our  utmost  for  the  improve¬ 
ment  and  progress  of  the  world,  but  to  do  our  utmost  also 
for  the  development,  utilization,  purification,  and  strength¬ 
ening  of  our  own  individual  natures.  The  riddle  of  life 
cannot  be  even  approximately  read  without  this  assump¬ 
tion.  For  obedience  to  the  laws  of  God  written  on  the 
face  of  Nature,  the  cultivation  of  those  virtues  and  affec¬ 
tions  whose  sacredness  is  written  on  our  hearts,  and  on 
which  the  beauty  and  the  joy  of  life  depend,  lead  to  such 
progressive  excellence.  Moreover  the  advance  and  eleva- 

*  “  Ask  we  no  more,  —  content  with  these, 

Let  present  comfort,  pleasure,  ease, 

As  Heaven  shall  with  them,  come  and  go,  — 

The  Secret  this  of  Rest  below.”  —  Keble. 


222 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


tion  of  Humanity  is  most  surely  promoted  by  whatever 
wholesomely,  harmoniously,  and  permanently  develops  the 
individual  man.  It  is  by  the  enlightened  and  disinterested 
service  of  his  fellow-being  that  he  most  surely  strengthens 
and  idealizes  his  own  nature.  He  cannot  carry  forward 
one  of  the  purposes  of  Providence  without  ipso  facto  con¬ 
tributing  to  the  other.  And  finally,  there  is  one  dark  page 
in  the  philosophy  of  life  which  no  other  creed  can  irradi¬ 
ate.  We  mean  the  fact,  so  perplexing  yet  so  constant,  of 
men  whose  youth  and  maturity  are  spent  in  struggle  and 
in  failure,  and  who  attain  wisdom  and  virtue  only  at  the 
close  of  their  career;  who  begin  to  see  clearly  only  when 
clear  vision  has  grown  useless ;  who  become  thoroughly 
qualified  for  the  work  of  life  and  the  service  of  humanity 
just  as  life  is  ebbing  away  and  the  arena  of  earthly  ac¬ 
tivity  is  closed  to  them.  Man  sometimes  seems  ordained 
to  spend  his  allotted  span  in  sharpening  his  tools  and 
learning  how  to  use  them,  and  to  be  called  out  of  the 
workshop  the  moment  his  industrial  education  is  complete. 
If  one  set  of  facts  points,  irresistibly  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  was  sent  on  earth  to  do  God’s  work  in  mending, 
beautifying,  and  guiding  it,  the  other  more  than  insinuates 
the  inference  that  the  world  is  a  school  where  he  is  to 
learn  his  craft,  but  not  the  only  scene  on  which  he  is  to 
practise  it,  a  whetstone  on  which  he  is  to  shape  and  sharpen 
his  faculties,  a  sort  of  corpus  vile  on  which  he  is  to  ex¬ 
periment,  not  for  its  sake  only,  but  for  his  own.  We 
accept  both  conclusions :  and  probably  the  inconsistency 
between  them  is  more  apparent  than  real.  If  the  first 
design  had  been  the  only  one  or  the  most  pressing,  the 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


223 


i 


mode  in  which  it  is  carried  out  would  indeed  he  perplex- 
ingly  slow  and  indirect.  Its  being  interwoven  with  the 
second  may  suggest  a  clew  out  of  the  labyrinth.  God 
meant  man  to  perfect  the  world  in  and  by  perfecting  his 
own  nature :  for  the  latter  task  Man  has,  perhaps,  but 
this  brief  fragment  of  Time ;  for  the  former,  God  has  the 
whole  long  lifetime  of  the  Human  Eace. 

Life  then  is  meant  for  enjoyment  and  for  toil ;  but  it  is 
meant  also  that  the  enjoyment  should  never  be  unmingled 
or  supreme,  and  that  the  toil  should  never  be  wholly  re¬ 
munerative  or  successful.  This  is,  then,  designed  to  be 
an  unsatisfying  world.  Ho  handwriting  on  the  wall  was 
ever  more  startlingly  distinct  than  this.  The  conclusions 
of  Ecclesiastes  are  echoed  by  every  man  to  whom  experi¬ 
ence  has  given  the  faculty  and  the  materials  of  thought. 
The  intensest  joy  we  have  ever  felt  has  been  usually  so 
alloyed.  The  most  unalloyed  joy  we  have  ever  felt  has 
been  so  passing. 

“  Medio  de  fonte  leporum 
Surgit  amari  aliquid  quod  ipsis  in  floribus  angat.” 

We  can  fancy,  too,  so  much  purer  and  brighter  than  we 
have  known.  Hay,  we  have  caught  glimpses  of  so  much 
that  we  could  neither  grasp  nor  retain.  The  actual  has 
been  very  beautiful ;  but  it  is  insufficient  in  the  view  of 
a  possible  far  lovelier  still. 

“  Science  for  man  unlocks  her  varied  store 
And  gives  enough  to  wake  the  wish  for  more. 

Enough  of  good  to  kindle  strong  desire  ; 

Enough  of  ill  to  damp  the  rising  fire  ; 


224 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Enough  of  joy  and  sorrow,  fear  and  hope, 

To  fan  desire  and  give  the  passions  scope  ; 

Enough  of  disappointment,  sorrow,  pain, 

To  seal  the  Wise  Man’s  sentence,  ‘  All  is  vain,’ 

And  quench  the  wish  to  live  those  years  again  !  ” 

Then  the  labors  of  the  ablest  and  most  successful  are  so 
disappointing  and  unfruitful.  Of  a  thousand  seeds  sown, 
and  watered  with  blood  and  tears,  only  one  ripens  to  the 
full  ear.  A  thousand  soldiers  die  in  the  trenches  for  one 
who  mounts  the  breach.  Half  our  efforts  are  in  a  wrong 
direction,  and  the  other  half  are  too  clumsy  or  feeble  to 
attain  their  aim.  Ho  !  if  at  the  close  of  life  we  can  say 
we  have  enjoyed  much  happiness  and  done  some  good, 
we  shall  have  cause  for  deep  gratitude  and  humble  hope ; 
but  a  sense  of  complacency,  of  satisfaction,  as  of  a  part 
fulfilled  and  a  work  accomplished,  can  belong  to  no  man 
who  looks  back  over  his  course  with  a  single  eye,  and  in 
the  light  of  an  approaching  change.  The  finer  the  spirit, 
the  profounder  the  insight,  the  more  unconquerable  is 
this  feeling  of  disappointment ;  an  irresistible  intimation 
that  this  world  wTas  not  given  us  to  be  rested  in,  to  be 
acquiesced  in  as  the  only  one,  or  the  brightest  one  ;  a 
conviction  and  a  suggestion  sent  to  weaken  our  passion¬ 
ate  attachment  to  a  scene  which  else  it  might  have  been 
too  hard  to  quit. 

Finally,  we  must  conclude  that  the  problem  of  Man’s 
Wherefore,  Whence,  and  Whither  was  meant  to  be  insol¬ 
uble.  When  we  reflect  upon  the  number  of  consummate 
intellects,  gifted  with  every  variety  of  mental  endowment 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


225 


and  rich  in  every  moral  excellence  which  gives  clearness 
to  the  vision  and  depth  to  the  spiritual  intuition,  who,  age 
after  age,  have  exhausted  thought  in  fruitless  efforts  to 
discern  the  word  of  the  great  Enigma,  it  seems  idle  to 
fancy  that  we  can  he  more  fortunate  than  they.  Centu¬ 
ries  have  added  scarcely  one  new  fact  to  the  materials  on 
which  reason  has  to  work,  nor  perfected  a  single  one  of 
the  faculties  by  which  that  work  is  to  be  done.  We 
possess  scarcely  a  single  item  of  knowledge  of  Divine  or 
of  Human  Nature  which  was  not  as  familiar  to  Plato 
and  to  Job  as  to  ourselves :  assuredly  we  have  no  pro¬ 
founder  poetic  insight  than  the  one,  no  finer  philosophic 
instrument  than  the  other.  What  baffled  them  mav  well 
baffle  us  also. 

Of  the  dark  riddles  and  incomprehensive  anomalies 
and  strange  perplexities  of  which  life  is  full,  some  very 
few  we  can  unravel ;  of  others  we  can  discern  just  enough 
to  guess  at  the  solution.  The  deepest  and  the  saddest 
must  ever  remain  to  try  our  faith  and  to  grieve  our 
hearts.  We  see  enough  to  make  us  believe  that  there  is 
a  solution,  and  that  that  solution  is  such  as  will  accord 
with  the  serene  perfections  of  the  Godhead.  We  have 
light  enough  to  walk  by,  to  tread  the  few  steps  that  lie 
immediately  before  us.  We  need  not  then  murmur  or 
despair  or  doubt  because  we  cannot  see  our  way  through 

i 

the  thick  forest  and  to  the  end  of  the  long  journey.  Sol¬ 
diers  must  often  be  content  to  fight  their  appointed  battle 
without  insisting  on  understanding  the  whole  plan  of  the 
campaign. 

That  the  good  are  often  wretched,  and  the  worthless 
10  * 


o 


226 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


prosperous  and  happy ;  that  sunshine  and  sorrow  follow 
no  rule  of  effort  or  desert ;  that  the  beautiful  and  noble 
are  cut  off  in  youth,  and  the  stained  and  mean  drag  their 
ignominy  through  a  long  career :  these  things  we  can  con¬ 
ceive  may  be  rectified  hereafter  and  elsewhere.  That 
those  whose  life  is  devoted  to  laboring  in  God’s  vineyard 
and  carrying  out  His  holy  purposes  are  perpetually  called 
away  in  the  midst  of  their  widest  usefulness  and  on  the 
eve  of  some  signal  and  fruitful  victory ;  while  others 
whose  whole  aim  seems  to  be  to  violate  his  commands 
and  counterwork  his  benevolent  designs  live  out  their 
threescore  years  and  ten  in  mischief  and  in  power,  is 
a  puzzle  to  which  even  our  philosophy  can  sometimes 
suggest  the  key ;  since  history  has  shown  us  that  the 
progress  of  Humanity  is  now  and  then  best  served  by 
the  triumph  of  the  bad  man  and  the  discomfiture  of  the 
good  cause.  The  infinite  slowness  with  which  man 

advances  to  his  final  goal ;  the  feebleness  and  vacillation 

* 

with  which  he  works  out  his  allotted  destiny ;  his  fre¬ 
quent  apparent  retrogressions  into  barbarism  and  iniq¬ 
uity  ;  the  ebbs  and  flows  of  the  tide  of  civilization :  to 
all  these  we  may  be  reconciled  by  the  supposition  that 
perhaps  the  imperfect  conditions  of  our  Being  render  this 
progress  at  once  the  surest  and  the  fastest  possible.  But 
there  are  stranger  and  gloomier  perplexities  than  these. 
There  are  chastisements  that  do  not  chasten ;  there  are 
trials  that  do  not  purify,  and  sorrows  that  do  not  elevate ; 
there  are  pains  and  privations  that  harden  the  tender 
heart  without  softening  the  stubborn  will ;  there  is  "  light 
that  leads  astray  ” ;  there  are  virtues  that  dig  their  own 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  LIFE. 


227 


grave.  There  are  pure  searchers  after  truth  whose  martyr 
spirit  lias  never  reached  the  martyr’s  crown,  whose  strug¬ 
gle  for  the  light  which  God  has  commanded  them  to  seek 
has  only  led  them  into  “  a  land  of  darkness,  as  darkness 
itself,  and  where  the  light  is  as  darkness.”  There  are  souls 
to  be  reckoned  by  the  million,  low,  grovelling,  undeveloped, 
desperately  bad,  and  which  could  scarcely,  save  by  miracle, 
have  been  other  than  they  are.  What  becomes  of  them  ? 
Why  are  they  here  ?  What  do  they  mean  ?  It  is  hard 
to  find  no  answer  to  such  questions.  It  would  be  yet 
worse  to  simulate  content  with  official  answers  at  once 
inadequate  and  consciously  untrue. 


t 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


“  Obstinate  questionings 

Of  sense  and  outward  things  ; 

Fallings  from  us,  vanishing  : 
0/0 

Blank  misgivings  of  a  creature 
Moving  about  in  worlds  not  realized.” 

Wordsworth,  Intimations  of  Immortality. 


DE  PEOFUSDIS. 


T  is  not  by  shirking  difficulties  that  we  can  remove 


JL  them  or  escape  them  ;  nor  by  evading  the  perplexing 
problems  of  life  or  speculation  that  we  can  hope  to  solve 
them  ;  nor  by  saying,  “  Hush,  hush  !  ”  to  every  over-subtle 
questioner  that  the  question  can  be  answered  or  the  asker 
silenced.  Men  cannot  go  on  forever  living  upon  half- 
exploded  shams ;  keeping  obsolete  laws  with  admittedly 
false  preambles  on  their  Statute-book ;  professing  creeds 
only  half  credited  and  quite  incredible ;  standing  and 
sleeping  on  suspected  or  on  recognized  volcanoes ;  erect¬ 
ing  both  their  dwellings  and  their  temples  on  ice  which 
the  first  dreaded  rays  of  sunlight  they  know  must  melt 
away.  We  cannot  always  keep  clouds  and  darkness 
round  about  us  ;  and  it  is  a  miserable  condition  alike 
for  men  and  nations  to  feel  dependent  upon  being  able 
permanently  to  enforce  blindness  and  maintain  silence ; 
to  live  as  it  were  intellectually  on  sufferance ;  to  shiver 
under  an  uneasy  semi-consciousness  that  all  their  delicate 
fabrics  of  Thought  and  Peace  lie  at  the  mercy  of  the  first 
pertinacious  questioner  or  rude  logician.  Yet  how  rare  is 
the  robust  faith  or  the  simple  courage  which  boldly  inter- 


232 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


rogates  the  darkness,  believing  that  thus  only  can  the 
light  be  reached !  The  question  may  not  lead  us  to  the 
truth ;  but  at  least  it  saves  us  from  sheltering  ourselves 
behind  known  or  suspected  error. 

How  few  of  us  sincerely  and  confidently  believe  our 
own  creeds  either  in  philosophy  or  religion  !  How  sel¬ 
dom  do  we  dare  either  to  think  them  out,  or  act  them 
out !  Take  one  example,  which  opens  a  wide  field  of 
perplexing  speculation. 

The  received  doctrine  is  that  God  puts  a  soul  into 
every  human  being  at  his  birth,  that  is,  that  whenever 
man  makes  a  body,  God  makes  a  soul,  or  sends  a  pre¬ 
existing  soul,  to  inhabit  it ;  or  that,  in  some  mysterious 
fashion,  with  the  commencement  of  earthly  life  com¬ 
mences  also  the  life  of  an  immortal  nature.  On  the 
assumption,  then,  of  man’s  free  agency  (an  essential  post¬ 
ulate  of  all  intelligible  reasoning  on  moral  questions), 
it  would  seem  to  lie  in  man’s  decision  how  many  souls 
shall  be  created  or  incarnated,  and  when,  and  pretty 
much  to  what  earthly  conditions  and  influences.  On  his 
determination,  or  passion,  or  it  may  on  his  indulgence  of 
a  momentary  appetite,  depends  the  question  whether  an 
immortal  spirit  shall  be  called  into  existence,  and  shall 
encounter,  —  having  no  voice  in  the  matter ,  —  not  only 
the  risks  and  sufferings  of  this  short  human  life,  but  the 
incalculable  and  fearful  chances  of  an  unending  life  to 
come.  Can  this  really  be  so  ?  Are  we  prepared  to  adopt 
this  corollary,  or  rather  this  plain  statement  of  our  belief  ? 
Yet  how  can  we  avoid  it  ?  If  man  has  a  soul,  when  else 
can  it  come  to  him  except  at  birth  ?  If  man’s  act  origi- 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


233 


nate  the  soul  as  well  as  the  body,  if  the  soul  be  an  attri¬ 
bute  or  necessary  accompaniment  of  the  body,  then  this 
is  either  materialism,  or  it  makes  man  the  creator  of  an 
immortal  spirit.  He  has  an  unlimited,  or  at  least  an 
indefinite,  credit  on  the  Treasury  of  Spiritual  Being. 

There  is  yet  another  perplexity  that  meets  us  here. 
The  moment  of  birth  is  a  singularly  critical  and  danger¬ 
ous  one.  Perhaps  our  life  is  never  in  such  jeopardy  as 
at  its  outset.  Whether  separate  existence  shall  begin, 
whether  the  infant  shall  breathe  and  live,  or  sink  back 
into  the  limbo  of  inchoate  organizations,  often  depends 
upon  the  skill  of  the  midwife,  upon  a  movement,  or  a 
stimulus  administered  in  time.  Do  the  awful  issues  of 
eternal  life  really  hang  upon  a  thread  like  this  ? 

It  will  be  replied  that,  as  an  indisputable  fact,  we 
know  it  does  depend  pretty  much  upon  man’s  will  or 
caprice,  or  the  competence  of  an  accoucheur,  whether  a 
human  being  shall  be  born  to  the  conditions  and  casual¬ 
ties  of  this  earthly  life ;  and  the  difficulties  surrounding 
the  other  problem  are  only  the  difficulties  surrounding 
this  one,  enormously  magnified  and  extended.  Well, 
then,  suppose  the  assumption  of  man’s  power  to  call 
immortal  beings  into  existence  acquiesced  in,  —  no  means 
of  escape  from  it  being  apparent,  save  the  purely  material 
hypothesis.  We  proceed. 

The  Calvinist  believes  that  only  a  small  fraction  of  the 
human  race  can  be  saved,  and  that  the  vast  residue  will 
be  doomed  to  endless  and  unspeakable  torments ;  that 
“  strait  is  the  gate  and  narrow  the  way  that  leadeth  unto 
life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it  ”  ;  that  the  elect  are 


234 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


scanty  and  the  reprobate  are  legion  ;  that,  of  any  given 
number  who  come  into  the  world,  the  overwhelming 
majority  will  be  damned.  There  is  no  mistake  about  it. 
He  does  not  mince  matters.  He  knows,  he  believes,  he 
says  every  day,  it  is  the  salient  article  of  his  creed,  that 
ninety-nine  out  of  every  hundred  are  predestined  to  eter¬ 
nal  suffering ;  that,  if  he  has  ten  children,  it  is  probable 
that  all,  it  is  certain  that  nearly  all,  will  burn  in  hell  for 
everlasting  ages ;  that,  in  fact,  except  in  cases  incalcula¬ 
bly  rare,  his  married  life  is  spent  in  furnishing  souls  for 
Satan,  poor  babies  for  endless  misery  and  damnation, 
helpless  victims  for  the  wrath  of  God.  If  he  believed 
all  this,  would  he  ever  dare  to  become  a  father  ?  If, 
believing  all  this,  he  yet  does  so  dare,  where  shall  we 
find  wrnrds  strong  enough  to  denounce  his  hardened  and 
horrible  barbarity  ?  Marriage  in  itself,  the  mere  condi¬ 
tion  which  renders  such  consequences  possible,  must  be  a 
sin  which  no  other  iniquity  can  equal.  For  it  cannot  be 
that  he  believes  all  his  own  children  will  be  saved.  He 
cannot  lay  this  flattering  unction  to  his  conscience.  His 
creed  does  not  permit  him  to  do  so.  He  knows  that  the 
Divine  wrath  is  so  consuming,  and  the  Divine  mercy 
so  scant,  and  the  rescued  so  incalculably  few,  that  the 
chances  are  almost  infinite  against  any  child  he  has. 
He  cannot  imagine,  as  in  worldly  matters  he  might,  as  in 
spiritual  matters  other  Christians  can,  that  he  may  by 
prayer  and  training  secure  the  salvation  of  his  children. 
]STo  !  his  creed  tells  him  that  all  this  is  settled  before¬ 
hand,  and  cannot  be  affected  by  any  act  or  negligence  of 
his.  How,  if  any  earthly  father  knew  that  probably  all 


DE  PEOFUNDIS. 


235 


his  children  —  that  assuredly  nine  out  of  ten  —  would  be 
seized  by  ruthless  conscription  and  sent  to  drag  out  their 
whole  lives  in  the  severest  anguish,  who,  with  a  spark  of 
affection  or  humanity  or  decent  sense  of  justice,  would 
ever  dream  of  marriage  or  paternity  ?  Yet  the  Calvinist 
knows  that  they  are  destined  irrevocably  to  a  fate  im¬ 
measurably  more  horrible  and  lasting,  yet  he  multiplies 
without  mercy  or  remorse.  Does  he  believe  his  creed  ? 

Again.  Most  Christians  now  adopt  a  happier  and  less 
dishonoring  creed.  They  are  beginning  more  and  more 
to  trust  in  a  good  God.  They  profess  to  believe  that 
Salvation  is  for  all,  and  within  reach  of  all,  though  they 
differ  as  to  the  terms  of  its  attainment.  They  hold  that 
sedulous  prayer,  and  due  care  in  bringing  up  their  chil¬ 
dren  in  the  true  faith  and  in  sound  practices,  will,  as  a 
rule,  secure  their  eternal  existence  in  indescribable  enjoy¬ 
ments.  Many,  an  increasing  number,  stretch  their  char¬ 
ity  wider  still,  and  indulge  in  a  more  universal  hope. 
They  believe  —  and  it  seems  to  uninjured  lay  intellects 
a  necessary  corollary  from  God’s  goodness  that  they 
should  believe  —  that  all  will  be  ultimately  saved,  though 
possibly  through  much  suffering  and  after  various  stages 
of  probation ;  that  of  all  human  creatures  who  once  enter 
upon  earthly  life,  endless  and  ineffable  felicity  will  be 
the  certain  and  final  lot :  — 

“  That  not  one  Life  shall  be  destroyed 
Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void, 

When  God  hath  made  the  pile  complete.” 

It  follows  that  on  them  is  conferred  the  blessed  privi- 


236 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


lege  of  calling  into  being  nearly  as  many  deferred  angels 
as  they  please,  0f  creating  reversionary  heirs  of  glory 
and  of  bliss  as  surely  and  as  largely  as  an  earthly  mon¬ 
arch  can  create  Peers.  This  being  their  creed  (and, 
granting  the  original  premises  we  see  nothing  to  gainsay 
in  the  inferential  superstructure),  their  logical  course  of 
action  would  seem  to  be  clearly  pointed  out.  They  must 
multiply  as  fast  as  they  can;  not  an  hour  must  be 
wasted,  nor  an  opportunity  lost,  nor  a  possible  agent  un¬ 
employed.  Celibacy  becomes  almost  a  sin,  at  the  least, 
a  neglect  of  duty,  a  foregoing  of  privilege,  a  selfish 
omission  of  the  means  of  conferring  such  ultimate  happi¬ 
ness  as  we  can  scarcely  dream  of  here.  There  can  be  no 
need  for  us  to  pause  to  consider  whether  we  can  support 
the  children  we  bring  into  the  world,  transmit  to  them 
healthy  organizations,  maintain  them  in  comfort  or  in 
life,  place  them  in  decent  or  in  morally  advantageous 
positions  :  all  these  are  matters  of  very  secondary  mo¬ 
ment  ;  for  what  is  any  amount  or  severity  of  transient 
suffering  in  a  probationary  state  in  comparison  with  that 
marvellous  and  enduring  felicity  which,  once  in  life,  is 
their  secure  inheritance  at  last  ?  It  may  be  that  the 
earlier  the  death  the  sooner  the  desired  haven  can  be 
reached.  All  that  parental  care  and  education  can  effect 
is  to  make  their  period  of  suffering  and  training  termi¬ 
nate  with  this  earth.  A  footing  once  gained  thereon,  the 
rest  is  a  mere  question  of  time,  and  of  the  greater  or  less 
degree  of  comfort  in  which  the  intervening  time  is  passed 
before  the  future  angel  enters  on  his  inheritance.  The 
greatest  benefactor  of  his  species  must,  therefore,  be  the 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


man  who  is  parent  of  most  children,  and  multiplication 
he  the  worthiest  function  of  Humanity. 

Yet  who  can  admit  such  conclusions  ?  and  who  can 
regard  as  sound  the  premises  from  which  they  flow  ? 


It  would  seem  clear  that,  in  the  eyes  or  according  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  orthodox,  those  who  believe  that  sal¬ 
vation  is  to  be  obtained  certainly,  and  only,  through  the 
name  of  Christ,  procreation  must  be  a  sin,  or  at  least  a 
calamity  and  a  cruelty  among  the  heathen,  —  innocent  or 
virtuous  only  among  the  nations  of  Christendom ;  a  be¬ 
nevolence  in  England,  a  barbarity  in  China  or  Thibet. 


The  pious  Theist,  who  conceives  that  immortal  life  is 
conferred  at  birth,  but  that  immortal  happiness  is  to  be 
purchased  by  virtue  and  desert  alone,  should  regard  pater¬ 
nity  as  permissible  only  where  virtue  is  possible,  and  as 
righteous  only  where  virtue  is  probable.  Yet  clearly  this 
is  not  nature’s  view  of  the  matter,  since  those  classes  who 
are  placed  in  circumstances  least  favorable  to  improve¬ 
ment  and  spiritual  development  usually  have  the  procre¬ 
ative  habit  and  faculty  the  strongest. 


On  any  theory  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  diffi¬ 
culties  in  the  way  of  those  who  believe  in  a  future  life 
and  a  spiritual  being  are  extreme.  With  our  limited 
capacities  and  scanty  knowledge  it  could  scarcely  have 
been  otherwise.  Perhaps  the  following  train  of  thought 
may  do  something  towards  suggesting  a  solution.  If 


238 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


birth  be  in  reality  the  creation  of  an  undying  soul  with 
the  alternative  of  future  happiness  or  misery  presented  to 
it,  according  to  its  use  of  this  life,  and  all  that  man  (by 
Divine  permission  or  connivance)  does  is  to  call  into 
existence  a  candidate  for  a  glorious  or  a  dreadful  future, 
then  it  is  equitably  essential  that  the  possibility  of  the 
former  should  be  truly  within  its  choice  ;  that  it  should 
be  placed  in  circumstances  and  endowed  with  sufficient 
strength  and  freedom  of  volition  to  render  its  decision 
really  optional ;  that  is,  that  the  better  fate  should  be 
distinctly  attainable  by  its  powers  and  with  its  inherited 
or  congenital  propensities  and  dispositions.  Can  we  say 
that  this  free  choice  is  bona  fide  secured  to  all,  or  to 
most  ?  Yet  clearly,  if  there  are  human  creatures  to 
whom  this  real  option  is  virtually  denied  by  surrounding 
conditions,  or  vicious  or  defective  education,  or  faulty 
organization,  or  innate  perverse  and  ungovernable  pro¬ 
pensities,  or  withheld  opportunities,  then,  either  they 
have  no  soul,  or  that  soul  is  not  immortal,  or  other  lives 
of  fairer  probation  will  be  granted  them,  or  God  is  in¬ 
deed  the  Being  he  is  represented  to  be  in  the  blasphemies 
of  so  many  Christian  sects.  There  seems  no  way  out  of 
this  inference. 

Probably,  however,  what  God  bestows  at  birth  is  a 
germ,  not  a  finished  Entity,  —  not  an  immortal  soul,  but 
a  nature  capable  of  being  worked  up  into  a  soul  worthy 
of  immortality,  an  organization  rich  in  the  strangest  and 
grandest  potentialities ;  not  a  possession,  but  an  opportu¬ 
nity  ;  not  an  inheritance,  but  the  chance  of  winning  one. 
Perhaps  it  may  be  only  such  natures  as  develop  ade- 


DE  PEOFUNDIS. 


239 


quately  and  in  the  right  direction  in  this  life,  that  will  be 
heirs  of  Heaven,  and  that  all  others  may,  as  it  were,  never 
pass  beyond  the  embryonic  or  earthly  stage  of  existence. 
The  question  of  their  development  must  depend  upon 
their  inherited  organizations  combined  with  the  aggregate 
of  influences  which  surround  them.  Those  who  believe 
in  the  Darwinian  theory  of  evolution,  and'  measure  the 
distance  which  man  has  travelled,  according  to  that  grand 
hypothesis,  from  the  Monad  to  the  Saint  and  the  Philoso¬ 
pher,  need  have  no  difficulty  in  conceiving  the  scarcely 
vaster  progress  which  our  suggestion  postulates.  Yet  it 
cannot  he  disguised  that,  even  on  this  supposition,  we 
come  upon  a  tremendous  moral  perplexity,  only  less 
startling  than  those  we  have  already  commented  upon. 
Por  what  awful  issues  then  depend  upon  the  parents, 
often  ignorant,  often  destitute,  often  brutal,  usually  quite 
insensible  or  only  half  awakened  to  their  gigantic  respon¬ 
sibilities  !  It  lies  with  them  to  say  —  or  rather  it  is 
determined  by  casualties  and  external  circumstances,  by 
organization  healthy  or  morbid,  by  location,  by  opportu¬ 
nities,  by  a  thousand  influences  of  which  they  themselves 
are  scarcely  more  than  the  victims  and  the  shuttlecocks 
—  whether  the  children  they  bring  into  the  world  shall 
be  mere  mortal  creatures  or  immortal  angels.  Is  this 
conjecture  more  credible  than  those  we  have  discarded  ? 
Indeed,  is  any  conception  attractive,  or  reposing,  or  truly 
credible  in  this  “  land  of  darkness,  as  darkness  itself,  and 
where  the  Light  is  as  darkness  ”  ? 


“  Behold,  we  know  not  anything.” 


240 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Another  set  of  speculations,  nearly  as  perplexing,  must 
often  have  been  presented  to  thoughtful  minds.  Few 
travellers  trained  to  appreciate  beauty  and  magnificence 
in  all  their  manifestations  can  have  surveyed  the  gorgeous 
temples  in  which  the  early  Indians  and  Egyptians  en¬ 
shrined  their  grotesque  idols  and  their  strange  concep¬ 
tions  of  Deity,  without  the  half-involuntary  exclamation, 
“  Thank  God  for  a  false  religion  !  or  at  least  for  the  mar¬ 
vellous  productions  it  has  inspired.”  The  same  sentiment 
rises  still  more  irresistibly  in  the  minds  of  cultivated 
Christians,  when  standing  in  the  plains  of  Baalbec  or 
Palmyra,  by  the  waste  shores  of  Paestum,  or  at  the  foot 
of  the  unrivalled  Parthenon,  and  thinking  what  sort  of 
gods  were  they  whose  worship  suggested  those  exquisite 
monuments  to  the  finest  races  of  the  Ancient  World,  and 
carried  taste  almost  to  inspiration :  “  Thank  God  for  a 
false  religion !  ”  A  similar  impression  forces  just  the 
same  utterance  from  the  zealous  Protestant,  if  he  be  a 
man  of  culture  as  well  as  zeal,  as  he  comes  forth  from  the 
Duomo  of  Florence  or  Milan,  from  St.  Mark’s  at  Venice 
or  St.  Peter’s  at  Rome,  and  marvels  at  the  glorious  struct¬ 
ures  which  intense  'devotion  to  what  he  deems  little  less 
than  anti-Christian  faith  could  rear  in  the  dark  days  of 
Catholic  supremacy.  “  Thank  God,”  he  exclaims,  “  for 
a  false  religion  !  ”  And  then  as  he  turns  homeward,  and 
stands  lost  in  admiration  near  the  front  of  Salisbury,  or 
Westminster,  or  Lincoln,  or  any  other  of  our  own  cathe¬ 
drals,  he  hears  his  phrase  echoed  at  his  side  by  the  Meth¬ 
odist  or  Ranter,  issuing  from  a  bare,  unlovely,  whitewashed 
Bethel  in  a  neighboring  alley,  who,  half  shocked  at  the 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


241 


unholy  thought,  can  yet  scarcely  deny  that  even  the 
surpassing  purity  of  his  own  creed  does  but  imperfectly 
atone  for  the  comparatively  wretched  house  of  God  in 
which  it  has  to  be  repeated.  The  contrast  between  the 
temples  inspired  by  the  false  faith  and  the  true  is  painful 
even  to  him. 

But  false  religions  have  inspired  grander  monuments 
than  temples  and  cathedrals,  and  demand  our  gratitude  for 
achievements  of  a  nobler  character.  They  have  been  the 
parents  of  courage,  obedience,  endurance,  and  self-sacrifice. 
In  proportion  to  the  measure  of  their  truth,  according  to 
the  tenets  of  their  creeds  and  the  fancied  attributes  of 
their  Deities,  they  have  guided  for  good  or  evil  the  morals 
of  mankind  ;  but  they  have  given  to  their  votaries  power 
to  do  and  to  bear,  with  little  direct  reference  to  the  char¬ 
acteristics  of  the  faith  itself.  Often  the  gods  worshipped 
have  been  hideous,  monstrous,  impossible,  immoral ;  often 
the  doctrines  held  have  been  revolting  and  maleficent; 
often  the  purest  faiths  have  been  disfigured  by  the  most  in¬ 
congruous  corruptions  :  but  good  or  bad,  true  or  false,  they 
have  nearly  all  had  one  feature  in  common,  —  the  faculty 
they  inspired  of  dethroning  the  present  and  suppressing 
self.  The  direction  of  their  influence  has  been  determined 
by  their  essence  ;  the  amount  of  that  influence,  their  motive 
power  over  humanity,  has  been  in  proportion  to  the  abso¬ 
luteness  of  the  credence  they  commanded.  They  have 
inspired  the  sublimest  virtues  and  the  most  frightful 
crimes  ;  but  men  have  died  and  slain  with  about  equal 
confidence  for  all  alike ;  all  alike  have  had  their  martyrs 

and  their  heroes ;  life,  ease,  pleasure,  earthly  possessions 

11 


p 


242 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


have  been  readily  sacrificed  by  the  devotees  of  every 
faith,  at  the  dictate  of  its  authorities  and  in  the  certainty 
of  its  rewards.  In  thanking  God  for  false  religions, 
therefore,  as  for  true  ones,  we  are  grateful  for  that  which 
is  common  to  them  all,  —  the  power  they  possess  of  in¬ 
spiring  human  fortitude  and  human  effort. 

Eecognizing,  then,  that  many  false  religions  have  exer¬ 
cised  in  some  respects  an  elevating  influence  on  mankind, 
and  that  others,  in  which  truth  and  error  are  mingled  in 
various  proportions,  still  largely  operate  for  good,  we  per¬ 
ceive,  too,  that  in  all  cases  they  have  this  strengthening 
and  ennobling  grace,  mainly  if  not  entirely,  because  they 
arc  firmly  held ,  because  no  doubt  mingles  with  the  faith 
of  the  worshipper,  or  impairs  the  blind  simplicity  of  his 
devotion.  If  he  had  any  misgivings  lie  could  not  “  greatly 
dare  or  nobly  die.”  It  is  only  his  certainty  that  sends 
him  to  the  battle-field,  or  sustains  him  at  the  stake,  or 
enables  him  to  bear  up  through  the  long  and  weary  mar¬ 
tyrdom  of  life.  The  very  salt  of  his  religion  to  him  lies 
in  his  absolute  conviction  of  its  truth.  If  he  were  not 
positively  certain  of  its  divine  origin  and  sanctions,  it 
would  lose  its  magic  hold  upon  his  actions  and  emotions. 
Now,  it  is  precisely  this  certainty  (to  which  all  religions 
pretend  and  which  is  essential  to  the  influence  of  them 
all)  which,  nevertheless,  thoughtful  and  sincere  minds 
know  to  be  the  one  element  of  falsehood,  the  one  untrue 
dogma,  common  to  them  all.  They  may  differ  on  every¬ 
thing  else ;  the  Gods  they  proclaim  may  be  as  discrepant 
as  light  and  darkness,  the  articles  of  their  creed  may  be 
very  approximately  true  or  very  manifestly  false,  their 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


243 


codes  of  morals  may  be  severally  beneficent  or  noxious,  the 
spirit  breathing  through  them  may  be  the  loveliest  or  the 
harshest ;  but  they  all  agree  in  affirming  that  their  faith 
came  to  them  by  more  or  less  direct  revelation  from  on 
High,  admits  of  no  question,  and  contains  no  flaw.  In 
this  they  all  lie  (all  except  one,  at  least,  every  one  admits) ; 
the  votaries  of  each  believe  that  all  others  lie  except 
their  own ;  philosophers  insist  that  there  is  and  can  be 
no  exception.  We  Europeans  know  that  the  Orientals 
err  in  maintaining  that  Buddha  or  Vishnu  was  incarnated 
in  this  form  or  in  that,  and  taught  the  true  faith  to  man. 
We  Christians  know  that  Jupiter  and  Minerva  never 
appeared  in  human  shape  to  give  consistence  and  sanc¬ 
tion  to  the  Pagan  creeds.  We  Jews  are  certain  that  the 
law  given  to  Moses  on  Mount  Sinai  was  never  abrogated 
by  a  later  and  sublimer  prophet.  We  Protestants  know 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  never  dictated  to  the  successors  of 
St.  Peter  the  strange  dogmas  of  salvation  which  those 
successors  are  now  issuing  in  its  name  to  votaries  who 
are  bound  to  accept  them  as  absolute  and  certain  truth. 
We  Unitarians  and  other  Dissidents  entirely  repudiate 
many  of  the  doctrines  which  the  English  Church  submis- 
si-vely  receives  from  councils  and  congresses  at  which  the 
Spirit  of  the  Most  High  wTas  asserted  to  preside  ;  and 
what  the  orthodox  regard  as  certain  we  reject  as  utterly 
unsound.  And  finally,  we  Philosophers  and  men  of  sci¬ 
ence  know,  with  a  conviction  at  least  as  positive  as  that 
of  any  of  these  Believers,  that  they  are  all  wrong,  that  no 
such  dicta  have  ever  been  delivered,  and  that  no  such 
knowledge  about  the  Unknowable  can  be  ever  reached. 


244 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


It  is,  therefore,  just  this  special  claim  to  certainty  (to 
absolute,  authoritative  truth)  which  is  the  inspiring  and  life- 
giving  power  of  all  religions,  which  is  also  the  one  false  ele¬ 
ment  common  to  them  all .  Here  then  is  the  startling  con¬ 
clusion  alluded  to  at  the  outset.  It  seems  to  follow  that 
error  is  necessary  to  float  and  vivify  truth,  that  religions 
hold  and  exercise  their  mighty  and  elevating  sway  over 
human  imagination  and  volition  hy  virtue  of  the  one 
fundamental  assumption  or  assertion  common  to  them  all, 
and  which  in  all  alike  is  false.* 


The  matter  lies  in  very  small  compass,  and  a  few  words 
will  do  as  well  as  many  to  state  it.  True  religions  —  that 
is,  religions  destitute  of  this  one  indispensable  false  dogma 
—  would  not  suffice  either  to  guide,  support,  inspire,  or 

*  It  would  lead  us  too  far  from  our  immediate  subject  to  discuss 
how  much  the  errors  mingled  with  the  belief  of  the  ordinary  Chris- 
tian  world  aided  the  spread  of  Christianity  at  the  outset,  and  serve 
to  give  currency  and  acceptance  to  it  now.  Many  of  these,  which 
we  may  term  auxiliary  errors,  would  of  course  be  denied  to  be  errors 
by  the  orthodox  ;  but  there  is  one  which  has  long  been  recognized 
and  proved  to  be  such,  as  to  which  there  can  be  no  dispute.  Prob¬ 
ably,  of  all  the  secondary  causes  which  contributed  to  the  rapid  ad¬ 
vance  of  Christianity  in  the  early  times,  and  gave  it  its  wonderful 
power  over  the  conduct  of  believers,  none  was  so  effective  as  the 
doctrine  which  it  preached  —  and  which  appears  to  have  been  univer¬ 
sally  accepted  both  by  Apostles  and  Disciples  —  of  the  approaching 
end  of  the  world.  No  other  conviction  could  have  so  transformed 
(as  we  know  that  it  did  transform)  the  whole  nature  and  views  of 
those  who  held  it.  Yet  none  could  be  more  erroneous.  [See  “  Creed 


•DE  PROFUN  DIS. 


245 


restrain  men,  as  men  now  are,  nor  to  fascinate  their  imam- 
nations,  nor  to  command  their  unhesitating  allegiance 
and  submission.  Their  imperfect  culture,  and  their  low 
stage  of  intelligence  need  and  demand  absolute  certainty 
and  positive  dogma.  Doctrines  which  resulted  from  a 
mere  balance  of  probabilities,  which  were,  and  avowed 
themselves  to  be,  simply  the  conclusions  of  mature  and 
enlightened  reason,  would  have  no  adequate  hold  on  their 
belief.  Laws  of  conduct  laid  down  as  imperative,  merely 
as  being  conformable  to  the  sound  instincts  of  sound 
natures,  and  as  plainly  conducive  or  indispensable  to  the 
good  of  mankind  and  of  themselves  in  the  long  run,  would 
have  no  adequate  hold  on  their  obedience.  The  uncul¬ 
tured  mass  of  mankind  —  especially  in  crises  of  passion 
—  will  neither  be  moved  nor  curbed  by  being  told,  or  even 
convinced,  “  If  you  act  thus  or  thus  you  will  contravene 
the  purposes  of  your  Creator,  and  injure  your  fellow- 

of  Christendom,”  pp.  181  and  270.]  Macaulay  has  a  striking  passage 
in  one  of  his  earliest  writings,  depicting  the  marvellous  aid  which  the 
anthropomorphism,  early  imported  into  Christian  conceptions,  ren¬ 
dered  to  the  progress  of  the  new  faith.  (“  Essays,”  I.  p.  22.)  “  God, 
the  uncreated,  the  incomprehensible,  the  invisible,  attracted  few 
worshippers.  A  Philosopher  might  admire  so  noble  a  conception, 
but  the  crowd  turned  away  in  disgust  from  words  which  presented 
no  image  to  their  minds.  It  was  before  the  Deity  embodied  in  a 
human  form,  walking  among  men,  partaking  of  their  infirmities, 
leaning  on  their  bosoms,  weeping  over  their  graves,  slumbering  in 
the  manger,  bleeding  on  the  cross,  —  that  the  prej  udices  of  the 
Synagogue,  and  the  doubts  of  the  Academy,  and  the  pride  of  the 
Portico,  and  the  fasces  of  the  Lictor,  and  the  swords  of  thirty  legions 
were  humbled  in  the  dust.” 


246 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


creatures  and  yourself.”  They  need  (what,  indeed,  in 
ultimate  analysis  is  merely  the  same  assertion  in  a  coarser 
and  more  concrete  form)  the  announcement,  “  God  spake 
these  words  and  said,”  and,  “  Heaven  or  hell  will  be 
your  portion  according  as  you  observe  them  or  disobey 
them.”  They  can  realize  and  bow  down  before  a  revela¬ 
tion  which  was  issued  from  a  cloud  or  behind  a  veil,  amid 
thunder  and  darkness,  and  uttered  in  their  own  vernacular 
by  a  human  or  anthropomorphic  voice,  —  all  which  acces¬ 
saries  should  in  truth  be  felt  as  so  many  reasons  for  dis¬ 
trusting  it ;  but  a  revelation  whispered  by  the  still  small 
voice  of  the  Most  High  to  the  purified  consciences  and 
the  exercised  reason  of  the  selected  sages  of  the  race, 
seems  to  them  announced  on  mere  human  authority,  and 
is  set  at  naught  at  pleasure.  The  sages,  therefore,  to  whom 
such  religious  and  legislative  wisdom  has  been  vouchsafed 
—  unless  their  love  of  truth  transcended  their  love  of 
power  and  their  desire  to  serve  mankind  —  have  habitu¬ 
ally  clothed  the  revelations  made  to  them  with  the  needed 
orthodox  conventional  accompaniments ;  have  falsified 
their  creed  in  order  to  float  it ;  have  alloyed  their  pure 
metal  with  earthly  admixture  to  make  it  workable  ;  and 
have  borrowed  for  the  sacred  vision  of  the  Prophet  the 
fallacious  but  indispensable  imprimatur  of  the  Priest. 
Even  among  communities  far  removed  from  that  ruder 
stage  when  material  manifestations  of  the  divinity  are  in 
favor,  something  of  the  same  want  is  felt,  and  is  supplied 
in  something  of  the  same  fashion.  The  sluggishness  and 
love  of  pleasure  of  even  comparatively  cultivated  men 
need  exaggeration  respectively  to  stimulate  or  to  control 


DE  PItOFUNDIS. 


247 


them.  A  faith,  which  was  avowedly  hut  the  outcome  of 
what  the  highest  human  intelligences  could  discover  or 
divine,  would  never  be  clung  to  with  credence  absolute 
enough  to  take  men  to  the  stake  in  its  behalf ;  scarcely 
even  to  the  battle-field,  if  the  battle  had  not  an  attraction 
of  its  own.  A  cause,  however  good  and  noble,  valued  only 
as  sober  thinkers  would  value  it,  —  regarded  as  probably 
and  on  the  whole  beneficent,  as  philosophers  would  express 
their  tepid  allegiance,  —  would  not  inspire  sufficient  en¬ 
thusiasm  to  make  men  either  toil  through  a  laborious  life 
or  brave  a  painful  death.  How  few  are  the  aims  which  it 
is  not  necessary  to  overestimate,  if  we  are  to  work  for  them 
devotedly  or  to  suffer  for  them  gladly !  How  few  are  not 
indebted  for  their  commanding  fascinations  to  the  merci¬ 
ful  disguises,  or  the  beautifying  draperies,  or  the  glorifying 
halos,  or  the  magnifying  mists  which  our  fancy  or  our 
ignorance  throws  round  them  ! 

A  corollary  would  seem  to  flowT  from  the  above  reflec¬ 
tions  which  sounds  questionable,  but  the  fallacy  lurking 
in  which  —  if  it  be  fallacious  —  is  not  easy  to  perceive. 
The  time,  we  hope,  will  come  (and  to  hasten  its  arrival 
should  be  the  aim  of  all  the  wise  and  good)  when  man¬ 
kind  will  have  advanced  so  far  beyond  their  present 
moral  and  intellectual  stage,  that  true  religion  will  be  as 
receivable  and  as  influential  as  false  religion  is  now ; 
when  error  and  exaggeration  and  misstatements  as  to  its 
origin  and  sanctions  will  no  longer  be  essential  to  its 
dominion  over  the  minds  of  men.  But  since,  in  the 
mean  time,  religions  require  for  their  efficacy  the  element 
of  untruth  of  which  we  have  spoken,  in  exact  proportion 


248 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


to  the  ignorance,  torpor,  and  want  of  enlightenment 
which  prevail  in  the  world,  how  far  may  it  not  he  per¬ 
missible,  perhaps  our  duty,  tacitly  to  accept,  to  acquiesce 
in,  or  possibly  even  to  preach  this  fundamental  but  indis¬ 
pensable  misrepresentation  ?  Was  the  old  system  of 
esoteric  creeds  worthy  of  the  unmeasured  condemnation 
heaped  upon  it  in  more  ardent  days  ?  May  it  not  some¬ 
times  be  incumbent  upon  those  whose  function  it  is  to 
direct  the  religious  conceptions  of  a  nation  to  teach  doc¬ 
trines  or  histories  they  do  not  believe,  or  at  least  to 
assume  and  to  uphold  that  lying  legend  which  serves  as 
the  basis  of  so  much  invaluable  truth,  —  of  truth,  more¬ 
over,  that  would  not  hold  its  ground  among  the  mass  of 
men,  if  the  unsoundness  of  its  basis  were  laid  bare  ? 
The  question  is  not  one  of  speculative  casuistry.  It  repre¬ 
sents  a  sad  and  most  real  perplexity  to  thousands  of 
conscientious  minds.  Probably  the  one  safe  practical 
conclusion  in  the  matter  will  be  this  :  to  leave  the  falla¬ 
cious  foundation,  even  though  a  pervading  error,  alone, 

—  so  long  as  no  noxious  superstructure  is  built  upon  it, 

—  so  long  as  the  falsehood  is  not  thrust  upon  us  as  the 
gem  and  essence  of  the  creed,  —  so  long  as  it  is  not 
called  up  to  warrant  dishonoring  views  of  God,  doctrines 
adverse  to  human  happiness  and  progress,  mental  fetters 
and  darkness,  or  priestly  insolence  or  cruelty.  It  is  not 
that  we  would  give  even  a  momentary  countenance  to 
that  purely  political  conception  of  religion  which  regards 
the  Ten  Commandments  as  a  sort  of  “  cheap  defence  ” 
of  property  and  life,  God  Almighty  as  an  ubiquitous  and 
unpaid  Policeman,  and  Hell  as  a  self-supporting  jail,  a 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


249 


penal  settlement  at  the  Antipodes ;  but  that  in  the  best 
creeds  as  held  and  promulgated  by  their  wisest  votaries, 
the  truth  they  contain  is  so  noble  and  beneficent,  and  the 
error  so  nearly  confined  to  the  original  false  assumption  at 
the  root,  that  the  balance  of  good  influence  is  incalculable. 

“  0  Thou  that  after  toil  and  storm 

Mayest  seem  to  have  reached  a  purer  air, 

Whose  faith  has  centre  everywhere, 

Nor  cares  to  fix  itself  to  form, 

“  Leave  thou  thy  sister,  when  she  prays, 

Her  early  Heaven,  her  happy  views  ; 

Nor  thou  with  shadowed  hints  confuse 
A  life  that  leads  melodious  days. 

“  Her  faith  through  form  is  pure  as  thine, 

Her  hands  are  quicker  unto  good  : 

0,  sacred  he  the  flesh  and  blood 
To  which  she  links  a  truth  divine  !  ” 

Tennyson,  In  Memoriam. 


One  more  “  cry  out  of  the  depths/’  in  reference  to  the 
oldest  and  perhaps  darkest  perplexity  of  all,  —  Prayer. 

The  instinct  of  prayer,  of  appeal  for  help  in  difficulty 
and  rescue  in  peril,  is  an  inevitable  consequence  and  cor¬ 
relative  of  belief  in  God,  in  a  Being  who  can  hear  and 
answer,  wrho  has  made  us  and  who  cares  for  the  creatures 
He  has  made.  It  flows  from  the  consciousness  of  our 
inferiority  and  His  superiority,  of  our  helplessness  and 
His  power.  It  is  an  original  and  nearly  irresistible  in¬ 
stinct,  precisely  similar  to  that  which  makes  the  child 


250 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


run  to  the  mother,  and  the  feeble  cling  to  and  entreat  the 
strong.  We  can  scarcely  imagine  its  extinction.  We 
cannot  picture  to  ourselves  what  our  nature  would  be  if 
it  were  extinguished.  Yet  reason  and  reflection,  science 
and  logic,  set  their  face  steadily  against  it,  strive  to  prove 
the  instinct  unphilosophical,  and  are  forever  at  work 
paring  the  doctrine  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer  away.  We 
cannot  gainsay  them,  yet  we  are  unable,  cordially  and 
conclusively,  to  accept  their  conclusions  or  to  act  upon 
them.  Here,  as  so  often  in  our  deeper  investigations, 
we  are  taught  the  hard  lesson  of  intellectual  humility, 
by  finding  corollaries  which  we  cannot  admit  flowing 
clearly  and  strictly  from  premises  which  we  cannot  deny. 

The  absurdity  of  Prayer  to  God,  with  any  belief  in.  its 
efficacy,  comes  out  most  strongly  in  the  practice  —  which 
dates  from  the  rudest  ages  and  has  survived  unbroken  to 
our  own  —  of  two  armies,  on  the  eve  of  battle,  each 
appealing  to  the  same  God  of  Hosts  to  crown  their  arms 
with  victory.  There  was  sense,  or  at  least  consistency,  in 
this  in  the  days  when  the  gods  were  national  deities,  rival 
celestial  powers,  each  of  which  had  his  special  proteges 
and  votaries.  Ho  words  can  do  adequate  justice  to  the 
incoherence  of  the  practice  now.  Two  vast  crowds  of 
men,  trusting  in  the  same  Saviour  and  worshipping  the 
same  God,  professing  a  religion  which  most  solemnly 
denounces  the  bad  passions  raging  in  their  bosoms  and 
the  special  crime  they  are  about  to  consummate,  draw 
their  swords,  load  their  muskets,  range  their  cannon,  and 
while  awaiting  the  signal  to  commence  their  mutual 
slaughter,  kneel  dowrn,  in  all  faith  and  earnestness,  to 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


251 


implore  the  Lord  who  has  condemned  slaughter  to  ren¬ 
der  their  special  slaughter  efficacious.  Both  sets  of  com¬ 
batants  seek  to  enlist  the  Lord  on  their  side,  believing,  or 
rather  unconsciously  assuming,  that  He  is  altogether  such 
a  one  as  themselves ;  believing  their  cause  to  be  just, 
they  trust  that  He  will  favor  it ;  fancying  also,  obviously, 
that,  even  though  it  be  just.  He  may  not  favor  it  unless 
specially  entreated  to  do  so;  assuming,  too  (unconsciously 
again),  that  Lie  is  mutable,  impressible,  persuadable,  and 
can  be  worked  upon  by  our  prayers  to  do  that  which  He 
would  not  have  done  without  them ;  that  is,  either  to 
take  a  different  view  of  the  case  from  that  which  He 
would  otherwise  have  taken,  or  give  victory  to  a  cause 
which,  though  righteous,  He  would  not  otherwise  have 
made  to  win  ;  to  change  sides  in  short. 

But  the  prayer  of  Armies  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts  is  often 
far  more  than  this,  where  it  is  fervent,  and  really  expects 
to  be  efficacious  or  to  weigh  one  iota  of  a  grain  in  the 
scale  of  His  eternal  purposes.  It  is  a  bona  fide  petition, 
almost  sublime  in  its  unthinking  naivete ’  that  He  will 
interpose  to  prevent  the  genius  of  the  opposing  generals, 
the  sagacity  and  topographical  knowledge  and  professional 
care  and  foresight  of  the  opposing  staff,  and  the  organ¬ 
izing  skill  of  the  enemy’s  minister  'of  war,  and  the  dry¬ 
ness  of  the  enemy’s  powder,  and  the  excellence  of  the 
enemy’s  artillery,  and  the  superiority  of  the  enemy’s 
numbers,  from  producing  their  natural,  allotted,  and 
legitimate  results ;  and,  further,  that  He  will  interfere 
to  prevent  the  stupidity,  cowardice,  sluggishness  of  the 
suppliants,  and  the  ineptitude  and  knavery  of  their 


252 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


chiefs,  from  reaping  the  fruits  which  a  righteous  decree 
has  from  all  time  assigned  to  turpitude  and  incapacity. 
Viewed  in  this  light,  the  prayer  becomes  something  like 
an  insult.  Viewed  in  any  light,  it  is  simply  a  request 
that  the  All-wise  and  All-mighty  Euler  of  the  Universe 
will  work,  not  a  miracle,  but  a  series  of  miracles,  will 
suspend  the  whole  sequence  of  cause  and  effect  on  which 
the  world  depends  and  on  which  the  actions  of  men  are 
calculated,  to  meet  a  casual  crisis  in  the  affairs  of  one 
small  section  of  His  undeserving  creatures.  Even  in 
those  cases  where  all  human  sympathies  go  with  the 
suppliants,  where  feeble  but  indisputable  right  is  on 
the  point  of  being  crushed  by  overwhelming  might,  the 
prayer  is  still  for  a  miraculous  suspension  of  that  per¬ 
vading  law  in  virtue  of  which  Might,  which  observes  the 
conditions  of  success,  reigns  paramount  on  earth  over 
Eight,  which  neglects  or  fails  to  fulfil  them.  In  specify¬ 
ing  these  military  prayers,  we  have  taken  the  most  start¬ 
ling  case,  and  the  one  which  admits  of  being  most  broadly 
stated ;  but  a  thousand  others  are  virtually  as  illogical, 
though  not  quite  so  revolting  to  human  reason. 

Yet,  in  the  common  affairs  of  life,  prayer  —  that  is,  a 
request  for  the  aid  of  those  wiser  or  more  powerful  than 
ourselves,  and  confident  reliance  on  that  aid  —  is  our  daily 
practice,  and  one  of  the  means  on  the  operation  of  which 
we  most  confidently  count,  and  which  we  distinctly  rec¬ 
ognize  to  be  perfectly  logical  and  sane.  Why,  then,  is  it 
permitted  by  philosophy  to  pray  to  man,  and  not  to  pray 
to  God  ?  Why  is  it  rational  to  entreat  a  tyrant  to  spare 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


253 


his  victim,  yet  irrational  to  pray  that  God  will  incline 
that  tyrant’s  heart  to  spare  him  ?  Why  is  it  philosophical, 
when  I  am  drowning,  to  beseech  a  fellow-student  on  the 
shore  to  fling  a  rope  and  save  me,  yet  unphilosophical  to 
pray  to  the  Deity,  equally  present  and  immeasurably 
abler,  to  grant  me  such  assistance  ?  Why,  when  I  am 
sick  unto  death,  may  I  send  for  a  skilful  physician  to 
cure  me  secundum  artem ,  yet  may  not  expect  Providence 
to  heal  me  by  a  (far  easier  and  simpler)  word  ?  Clearly 
and  solely,  it  would  seem,  because  men  are  persuadable, 
and  God  is  not ;  because,  in  the  case  where  human  aid  is 
implored,  the  appeal  is  a  vera  cctusa  ;  it  can  make  the  ty¬ 
rant,  the  friend,  or  the  physician  do  what  otherwise  he 
would  not  have  done.  Take  the  last  instance  as  the  sim¬ 
plest  one.  Thus,  —  I  am  ill  of  a  malady  which,  according 
to  the  unchecked  operation  of  those  natural  and  eternal 
laws  which  men  have  studied,  and  on  which  they  base  all 
their  calculations,  must  prove  fatal.  I  pray  that  the  cup 
may  pass  from  me,  taking  no  other  step,  and  God  heals 
me.  In  this  case,  not  only  has  a  miracle  been  worked, 
but  an  entire  derangement  of  the  regular  current  course 
of  events  has  been  brought  about  (for  one  event  cannot  be 
changed  without  operating  on  all  others) ;  not  -only  has 
all  past  analogy,  by  which  men  guide  their  actions,  been 
set  at  naught  and  the  laws  of  natural  sequence  suspended 
for  my  behoof,  but  as  my  recovery,  when  I  ought  to  have 
died,  will  affect  and  modify  the  lot  of  every  one  connected 
with  me  in  the  remotest  degree,  the  hearing  of  my  prayer 
has  introduced  an  entirely  new  and  endless  range  of  con¬ 
sequent  events,  has  negatived  the  Past  and  disturbed  the 


254 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Future.  But  once  again,  —  I  am  ill  of  a  fatal  malady, 
curable  only  by  one  rare  drug.  I  purchase  it  from  a 
druggist,  and  I  live.  I  pray  a  friend  learned  in  the  deeper 
secrets  of  chemistry  to  confide  to  me  the  hidden  elixir ; 
he  does  so,  and  I  am  saved.  In  all  this  there  is  no  trans¬ 
gression  or  suspension  of  natural  law,  but  simple  conform¬ 
ity  to  it.  It  is  in  the  course  of  nature  that  medicines  1 
heal ;  it  is  in  the  course  of  nature  that  friends  listen  and 
assist.  The  law  of  nature  is,  that  if  the  medicine  is  not 
administered,  I  die ;  that  if  it  is  administered,  I  live ;  that 
a  friend,  if  a  persuadable  being,  listens  to  my  entreaties. 
In  this  case  the  prayer  is  a  causa  causans  ;  it  has  so  acted 
on  the  druggist  or  the  friend  as  to  make  him  do  what  oth¬ 
erwise  he  would  not  have  done  ;  he  was  so  made  as  to  be 
so  acted  upon ;  an  antecedent  which  I  applied  has  been 
followed  by  its  appointed  and  natural  sequence.  This 
reasoning  would  seem  sound.  It  is  certainly  in  conform¬ 
ity  with  the  instinctive  and  habitual  convictions  on  which 
we  act,  and  must  act,  in  our  daily  life. 

If  this  reasoning  is  sound,  it  would  seem  to  follow  that 
the  Catholic  Church,  in  sanctioning  the  invocation  of  saints, 
has  hit  upon  the  one  form  of  prayer  which  is  logical  and 
philosophic.  Assuming  the  possibility  of  communication 
between  the  living  and  the  spirits  who  have  passed  away 
from  earth,  and  assuming  further  that  those  spirits,  now 
endowed  with  the  knowledge  and  the  power  belonging  to 
a  higher  life,  still  retain  something  of  the  affections  and 
preferences  of  their  former  state,  and  favor  and  protect 
their  votaries,  then  there  is  nothing  irrational  in  calling 


DE  PROFUNDIS. 


255 


upon  them  to  aid  and  bless  us.  They,  though  translated 
to  supernal  spheres,  and  gifted  with  larger  faculties,  are 
still  supposed  to  be  imperfect  creatures,  and  not  yet  par¬ 
takers  of  the  Divine  Nature.  They  may,  therefore,  with¬ 
out  irrationality,  be  supposed  amenable  to  human  entreat¬ 
ies  and  capable  of  being  moved  to  exert  their  super-earthly 
powers  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  adore  and  trust  them. 
Praying  to  them  is,  in  fact,  just  like  praying  to  fellow- 
beings  of  a  superior  order,  only  still  more  gloriously  en¬ 
dowed  than  any  earthly  friends,  and  still  more  advantage¬ 
ously  placed  for  answering  the  claims  of  the  suppliants. 

But  again :  Is  the  above  reasoning  quite  without  sus¬ 
picion  of  a  flaw  ?  If,  as  philosophers  have  maintained, 
we  all  and  always  live  under  the  dominion  of  settled  law  ; 
if  the  present  in  all  points  flows  regularly  and  inexorably 
from  the  past ;  if  all  occurrences  are  linked  together  in 
one  unfailing  chain  of  cause  and  effect,  and  all  are  fore¬ 
seen  by  Him  whose  foresight  is  unerring ;  if,  indeed,  they 
are  mere  portions  of  an  order  of  events  of  which  the  mo¬ 
tive  power  has  been  set  in  action  from  the  beginning ; 
then  is  not  aid  rendered  to  us  by  our  human  friends  in 
consequence  of  our  entreaties,  as  an  effect  of  that  cause ,  as 
much  a  disturbance  of  the  ordained  Law  of  Sequence  as 
if  God  himself  had  directly  aided  us  in  compliance  with  our 
prayers  to  Him  ?  In  working  out  the  prearranged  order 
of  the  Universe,  men  surely  are  His  agents  just  as  much 
as  winds  and  waves ;  to  pray  to  Him  to  still  the  latter 
lest  they  overwhelm  us,  is  admitted  to  be  unphifosophical, 
as  implying  the  expectation  that  a  miracle,  an  interference 


256 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


with  the  laws  of  nature,  should  be  worked  on  our  behalf ; 
to  pray  to  Him  to  turn  the  hearts  of  cruel  men  lest  they 
should  slay  us,  is  admitted  to  be  equally,  though  less  ob¬ 
viously,  unphilosophic  for  the  same  reason.  Yet  would 
either  result  be  more  a  disturbance  of  established  sequences 
than  our  being  spared  or  saved  by  human  interposition, 
if  that  interposition  be,  really  and  truly,  caused  by  our 
prayers,  and  would  not  have  taken  place  without  them  ? 
Is  it  not  the  inescapable  conclusion  from  all  this  ratioci¬ 
nation,  that  we  are  on  these  subjects  dealing  with  ques¬ 
tions  which  either  our  imperfect  logical  instruments  are 
inadequate  to  handle,  or  in  which  our  premises  are  incom¬ 
plete  or  uncertain ;  and  in  reference  to  which,  therefore, 
all  our  reasoning  processes  land  us  in  contradictions  or 
inadmissibilities  ?  In  fine,  we  are  surrounded  with  mys¬ 
teries,  our  own  origin  and  existence  being  the  most  obvi¬ 
ous  of  them  all ;  mysteries  we  cannot  clear  up  or  escape 
from ;  mysteries  as  to  which,  however,  we  have  one  plain 
duty,  namely,  since  we  cannot  solve  them,  firmly  to  resist 
the  temptation  (which  is  the  besetting  sin  of  the  undisci¬ 
plined  religious  mind)  of  acquiescing  in  the  pretended 
solutions  offered  to  us  in  such  abundance  by  those  to 
whom  a  state  of  doubt  is  a  state  of  torture ;  who  rebel- 
liously  clamor  for  that  certainty  which,  in  moral  ques¬ 
tions,  Providence  has  vouchsafed  only  to  negations ;  and 
who  find  it  easier  to  worship  a  created  Idol  than  an 
unknown  God. 

Probably  to  every  experienced  as  to  every  disciplined 
mind,  the  one  effective  silencer  and  discourager  of  prayer 


DE  PKOFUNDIS. 


257 


is  the  conviction,  which  we  all  accept  but  can  rarely  real¬ 
ize,  that  we  constantly  pour  forth  our  most  fervent  sup¬ 
plications  for  what  not  only  we  ought  not  to  obtain,  and 
for  what  it  would  not  conduce  to  our  well-being  to  obtain, 
but  for  what  in  a  year  or  a  month,  perhaps,  we  may  be 
most  thankful  we  did  not  obtain,  or  most  wretched  if  we 
did.  To  grant  our  prayers  would,  we  well  know,  be  often 
the  greatest  unkindness  God  could  do  us.  We  know  so 
little  what  would  make  us  happy,  or  what  would  do  us 
good.  If  we  saw  a  little  truer,  a  little  deeper,  or  a  lit¬ 
tle  further,  we  should  pray  to  be  delivered  from  the  fate 
we  are  now  passionately  praying  to  attain,  as  from  the 
worst  of  earthly  evils.  To  pray  for  this  or  that  blessing 
with  the  proviso,  “  if  it  be  good  for  us/J  is  superfluous,  for 
our  creed  is  that  God  will  always  give  His  children  what 
He  sees  to  be  good  for  them.  To  pray  without  this  proviso 
may  be,  and  often  is,  suicidally  entreating  for  a  curse. 
What  blind  work,  then,  prayer  is  !  unless  confined  to  the 
simple,  monotonous  cry,  “  Thy  will  be  done  !  ”  And  then 
as  a  Prayer  how  needless  is  that,  though  as  a  sentiment 
of  trust  and  resignation,  how  needful !  *  In  fine,  perhaps 

*  “  Still  raise  for  good  the  supplicating  voice, 

But  leave  to  Heaven  the  measure  and  the  choice  ; 

Safe  in  His  hands  whose  eye  discerns  afar 
The  secret  ambush  of  a  specious  prayer. 

Implore  His  aid  ;  in  His  decisions  rest ; 

Secure  whatever  He  gives,  He  gives  the  best. 

But  when  a  sense  of  sacred  Presence  fires, 

And  strong  devotion  to  the  skies  aspires, 

Pour  forth  thy  fervors  for  a  healthful  mind, 

Obedient  passions,  and  a  will  resigned  ; 

Q 


258 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


the  only  prayer  that  the  wise  can  offer,  confident  that  it 
would  be  well  for  us  it  should  be  heard,  must  be  reduced 
to  this :  “  Guide  us  aright,  and  deliver  us  from  evil  ”  ! 
Whatsoever  is  more  than  this  cometh  of  a  faulty  judg¬ 
ment  and  a  fainting  will. 

For  Love,  which  scarce  collective  Man  can  fill, 

For  patience,  sovereign  o’er  transmuted  ill, 

For  faith,  that  panting  for  a  purer  seat, 

Counts  Death  kind  Nature’s  signal  for  retreat,  — 

These  gifts  for  all  the  laws  of  heaven  ordain, 

These  gifts  He  grants  who  grants  the  power  to  gain  ; 

With  these  celestial  wisdom  calms  the  mind, 

And  makes  the  happiness  she  cannot  find.” 

Johnson’s  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes.  Paraphrased 
from  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal. 


VII. 


ELSEWHERE. 


ELSEWHERE. 


T 


1HE  belief  in  a  future  world,  in  a  prolonged  or 
renewed  existence  after  death,  is  sincerely  held  by 
ninety-nine  men  out  of  every  hundred  among  us,  even  in 
the  educated  classes,  however  unable  they  may  be  to  give 
a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  them,  or  even  to  say  how 
they  came  by  it.  They  may  not  realize  this  future,  but 
they  do  not  doubt  it,  and  they  would  be  surprised  and 
shocked  to  hear  it  questioned.  Yet  ninety-nine  out  of 
every  hundred  habitually  act  and  feel  as  if  they  had  for¬ 
gotten  the  doctrine,  or  had  never  entertained  it.  Why  is 
this  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  other  world  exercises  so  slight 
an  influence,  and  lets  in  so  faint  a  light,  on  this  ?  Why 
do  the  promises  and  menaces  of  the  life  to  come  operate 
so  partially  and  languidly  on  the  feelings  and  the  actions 
of  the  life  that  is  ?  How  is  it  that  the  attractions  of 
Heaven  compete  at  such  a  fearful  disadvantage  with  those 
of  Earth  ?  How  is  it  that  hopes  and  fears  which  come 
to  us  magnified  through  the  dread  telescope  of  Eternjty 
are  so  feebly  felt,  in  comparison  with  the  trivial  and 
transient  interests  of  this  “narrow  sand  and  shoal  of 
Time  ”  ?  We  are 


262 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


“  Beings  holding  large  discourse, 

Looking  before  and  after”  ; 

the  histories  we  read,  the  scenes  we  tread,  the  skies  which 
nightly  remind  us  of  the  illimitable  wonders  of  Creation, 
all  proclaim  in  language  too  clear  to  be  misread,  too  elo¬ 
quent  to  be  unheard,  the  infinite  littleness  and  shortness 
of  what  is  visible  and  earthly,  and  the  infinite  grandeur 
and  superiority  of  what  is  enduring  and  divine ;  the  earth 
is  strewed  with  the  ruins  of  things  on  which  man  had 
accumulated  whatever  could  insure  stability  and  perma¬ 
nence  ;  its  surface  is  written  all  over  with  lessons  of  the 
transitoriness  of  all  human  interests  and  human  works. 
Of  the  richest  and  mightiest  cities  of  the  ancient  world 
the  only  surviving  indications  are  the  Temples  and  the 
Tombs  :  their  dwellings,  their  palaces,  their  theatres,  have 
disappeared, — all  the  magnificent  structures  of  their  genius 
and  their  pride,  save  those  erected  to  the  memory  of  the 
Dead,  or  the  worship  of  the  Undying  !  “  Passing  away” 

is  written  on  everything  this  world  contains  ;  yet  we  sit 
amidst  its  consentaneous  and  emphatic  teachings,  unable 
to  lay  to  heart  its  single  moral,  engrossed  with  the  shal¬ 
low  interests  of  a  few  brief  moments  in  a  passing  life, 
with  the  immortal  Stars  above  us,  and  the  Sepulchres 
of  Nations  at  our  feet!  We  are  all  conscious  of  this 
startling  disproportion  between  the  relative  magnitude  of 
the  two  sets  of  objects  and  our  relative  absorption  in 
them :  how  intent  we  are  upon  the  one,  how  neglectful 
of  the  other  !  Divines  reproach  our  insensibility  as  a  sin  ; 
and  we  ourselves  acknowledge  it  with  an  alternate  sigh 
of  regret,  and  stare  of  half-incredulous  wonder.  Where, 


ELSEWHERE. 


263 


then,  are  we  to  look  for  the  explanation  of  this  strange 
irrationality  ?  Why  are  the  joys  of  the  world  to  come  so 
feeble  to  attract,  and  its  terrors  so  impotent  to  restrain  ? 

Can  it  be  attributable  to  unbelief  ?  With  some,  no 
doubt,  this  is  the  principal  operative  cause.  They  have 
no  real  firm  faith  in  futurity ;  they  admit  it,  but  it  dwells 
upon  their  mind  in  too  nebulous  a  shape  ever  to  attain  to 
the  dignity,  or  to  bear  the  fruits,  of  a  conviction.  What 
they  see  and  know,  therefore,  appeals  to  them  with  a 
cogency  which  can  never  appertain  to  what  they  merely 
conjecture.  On  what  principles  of  sense  or  wisdom 
should  they  forego  a  pleasure  that  is  immediate  and  cer¬ 
tain  for  a  joy,  even  far  greater,  that  is  future,  distant,  and 
dim,  if  not  problematical  ?  Between  a  certainty  and  a 
contingency  the  conflict  is  enormously  unequal.  But  it 
is  not  of  these  men  that  we  are  speaking.  There  are 
thousands  who  fancy  their  belief  in  Heaven  and  its  coun¬ 
terpart  is  positive,  dogmatic,  and  established ;  over  whose 
conviction  no  shade  of  doubt  has  ever  passed ;  to  whom 
(theoretically  at  least)  the  day  of  Judgment  is  as  real  as 
the  grave,  and  the  immortality  of  the  Soul  as  certain  as 
the  death  of  the  body ;  whose  hopes  are  never  dimmed  by 
the  clouds  which  haunt  our  hours  of  weakness  and  reac¬ 
tion  ;  whom  no  subtle  questionings,  no  dark  misgivings 
waylay  and  assail,  to  shatter  and  paralyze  their  energies ; 
and  yet  upon  whose  actual  sentiments,  estimates,  state 
of  mind,  and  course  of  action,  the  beckoning  effulgence 
from  Heaven  or  the  beacon-fire  of  Hell  have  scarce  more 
influence  than  had  upon  the  ancient  world  the  chill  and 
pallid  moonlight  of  Elysium  or  the  shadowy  tortures  of 


264 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


the  poetic  Tartarus.  It  is  not  that  they  are  not  steadfast 
believers  in  these  solemn  futurities :  if  you  question 
them,  they  would  class  them  among  the  most  absolute 
certainties  they  know.  It  is  not  that  for  a  moment  their 
reason  places  the  pleasures  or  the  pains  of  earth  in  com¬ 
parison  with  the  incalculable  retributions  of  another 
world,  or  that  their  nature  is  too  uncultured  to  appre¬ 
ciate  the  immeasurable  overbalance  of  an  infinite  rever¬ 
sion  over  a  finite  actuality.  Some  other  explanation 
must  be  sought  for. 

Can  it  be  found  in  Man’s  weak  imagination,  in  the 
feebleness  of  his  faculty  of  realization  ?  Is  it  that  he 
cannot  fully  picture  to  himself,  or  bring  home  to  his 
bosom,  things  so  distant  and  unseen  ?  Is  it  that,  fully 
admitting  them,  he  cannot  feel  them  ?  that,  though  con¬ 
victions  of  the  understanding,  they  have  not  become 
realities  to  the  heart  ?  No  doubt,  in  a  multitude  of 
instances  this  is  the  true  solution  of  the  enigma.  The 
conceptions  of  most  of  us  are  dull ;  the  power  of  'pre¬ 
senting  the  future  to  our  minds  fin  the  accurate  and 
analyzed  sense  of  the  expression),  of  making  it  present 
to  us,  of  “  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible,”  is  a  faculty 
whose  strength  depends  greatly  on  training,  which  is 
vouchsafed  to  different  individuals  in  very  different 
measure,  and  to  most  of  us  in  very  scanty  measure.  It 
is  a  faculty,  even,  which,  in  its  complete  development,  is, 
as  previously  pointed  out,  a  most  perilous  endowment, 
and  probably  scarcely  compatible  with  sanity.  Eventu¬ 
alities,  too,  however  certain,  of  which  both  the  time  and 
the  locality  are  unknown,  and  of  which  the  nature  is  not 


ELSEWHERE. 


265 


easily  conceivable ,  can  seldom  take  a  hold  proportioned  to 
their  magnitude  upon  minds  blunted  by  living  in  a  world 
of  sense  and  daily  dealing  with  objective  realities  alone. 

With  the  vast  majority  of  nominal  believers,  no  doubt, 
the  future  is  ineffective  by  reason  of  its  distance,  the 
present  overpowering  by  reason  of  its  nearness.  Their 
will  is  too  feeble,  their  powers  of  self-control  too  little 
raised  above  the  savage  state,  to  postpone  a  present  in¬ 
dulgence  to  a  future  good,  to  dread  a  distant  agony  more 
than  an  immediate  pang,  to  forego  an  actual  trifle  for  a 
grand  reversion.  These  are  the  men  who  sink  into  luxury 
and  sloth  from  sheer  inability  to  look  forward  till  the 
morrow  and  provide  against  need,  who  do  evil  “  because 
sentence  against  it  is  not  executed  speedily.”  But  there 
are  millions  to  whom  this  explanation  will  not  apply ; 
who  spend  their  life  in  sowing  the  seed  for  a  remote 
harvest ;  who  practise  daily  self-denial  for  the  purchase  of 
some  contingent  and  eventual  good ;  whose  whole  career 
is  a  laborious  provision  for  an  earthly  morrow  quite  as 
distant  and  far  more  uncertain  than  the  heavenly  one. 
They  sacrifice  themselves  for  a  posthumous  fame  which 
will  not  be  theirs  ;  they  lay  by  comforts  for  an  old  age 
which  in  all  likelihood  they  will  never  reach ;  they  accu¬ 
mulate,  by  the  surrender  of  all  the  enjoyments  and  amen¬ 
ities  of  life,  a  splendid  endowment  for  the  family  they 
hope  to  found :  yet  their  sons  may  all  die  out  before 
them.  Here  it  is,  not  that  they  cannot  sacrifice  the 
actual  and  visible  to  the  remote  and  the  unseen,  but 
that  the  locality  and  the  elements  of  their  future  are 

alike  misjudged. 

12 


266 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


None  of  these  solutions  of  the  problem  quite  explain 
to  us  how  it  is  that  men  who  are  capable  of  a  strenuous 
and  self-denying  postponement  of  the  present  to  the 
future,  and  who  are  solemn  and  earnest  believers  in  the 
Great  Hope  and  the  tremendous  Fear,  yet,  practically 
and  habitually,  look  upon  Heaven  with  so  little  aspira¬ 
tion  and  upon  Hell  with  so  little  dread.  We  must  seek 
for  some  other  influence  which  is  at  work  to  counteract 
the  natural  operation  of  these  mighty  conceptions.  This 
influence  we  believe  will  be  found  in  the  character  of  the 
usual  representations  of  the  happiness  and  torments  of 
our  future  retributive  existence.  The  joys  of  the  world 
to  come  have  been  habitually  so  pictured  by  divines  that 
the  great  majority  cannot  relish  them,  and  its  pains  so 
that  they  cannot  believe  them. 

In  describing  these  last,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
divines  have  seldom  diverged  much  from  the  letter  of 
Scripture.  The  Scriptural  delineations  of  future  torments 
have  four  characteristics,  all  singular  enough  :  they  are  all 
physical ;  they  are  eternal ;  they  are  penal,  not  purgato¬ 
rial  or  reformatory;  and  they  are  indiscriminate  on  all 
subjected  to  them.  Now,  every  one  of  these  points  is 
found  to  be  practically  almost  impossible  of  credence. 

I.  It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  throughout  the  Epistles 
there  is  no  description  of  any  place  or  world  of  punish¬ 
ment,  and  few  references  to  the  existence  of  such.  Paul 
indeed  speaks  of  the  “  day  of  wrath  ”  ;  “  the  wrath  to 
come  ”  ;  “  indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish, 
upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doeth  evil  ”  ;  and  both  Paul 
and  the  writer  of  the  second  epistle  of  Peter  mention 


ELSEWHERE. 


267 


incidentally  the  “  everlasting  destruction/’  the  “  perish¬ 
ing  ”  of  sinners  ;  but  this  is  the  sum  total  of  their  con¬ 
tributions  to  the  subject,  which  seems  scarcely  ever  to 
have  been  present  to  their  minds.  In  the  Gospels,  how¬ 
ever,  the  place  of  punishment  is  mentioned  in  several 
places,  generally  as  from  Christ  himself;  and  it  is  always 
described  in  the  same  or  nearly  the  same  language,  as 
“  hell  fire  ”  ;  “  flame  ”  ;  “  the  place  where  the  worm  dieth 
not,  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched ” ;  “a  furnace  of  fire,”  — 
imagery  suggested  apparently  by  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Valley  of  Gehenna.  In  the  Revelations  the  same  concep¬ 
tion  is  (as  might  be  anticipated  from  the  character  of  the 
book)  still  more  materialized :  there  it  is  “  the  lake  that 
burneth  with  fire  and  brimstone  ”  ;  the  "  lake  of  fire  ”  ; 
the  “  bottomless  pit,”  etc.  In  short,  wherever  Hell  is 
spoken  of  at  all  specifically  in  the  Bible,  its  tortures  are 
described  as  purely  corporeal ;  and  Christian  writers  and 
preachers  in  general  have  faithfully  adhered  to  the  repre¬ 
sentations  of  their  text.* 

*  I  am  assured  that  these  material  conceptions  of  the  place  of 
punishment  are  not  now  retained  or  dwelt  upon  by  any  one.  Yet  I 
have  now  lying  before  me  a  book  entitled  “  A  Sight  of  Hell,”  pro¬ 
fessing  to  come  from  the  Rev.  Father  Furniss,  C.SS.R.,  and  printed 
“  permissu  superiorum,”  and  recommended  to  be  used  along  with 
the  Catechism  in  Sunday  schools  as  part  of  a  course  of  religious 
instruction.  It  is  one  of  a  series  of  “  books  for  children  and  young 
persons.” 

“  Little  child,  if  you  go  to  hell  there  will  be  a  devil  at  your  side 
to  strike  you.  He  will  go  on  striking  you  every  minute  for  ever  and 
ever  without  stopping.  The  first  stroke  will  make  your  body  as 
bad  as  the  body  of  Job,  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  sores  and 


268 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Now,  it  is  naturally  impossible  for  men  of  intelligence 
and  cultivation  who  are  conscious  how  far  the  mental 
surpasses  the  bodily  capacity  for  suffering  —  or  for  Chris¬ 
tians  who  have  been  taught  how  large  a  proportion  of 
their  worst  offences  proceed,  not  from  the  weakness  of  the 
flesh,  but  from  the  wild,  bad  passions  of  the  Spirit  —  to 
acquiesce  in  this  physical  delineation  of  future  retribu¬ 
tion.  Instead  of  the  “  majestic  pains  ”  adapted  to  man’s 
complex  nature,  and  capable  of  such  impressive  delinea¬ 
tion,  the  torments  assigned  by  ordinary  Christianity  to 
the  future  life  are  peculiarly  and  exclusively  those  appro¬ 
priate  to  this ;  they  are  all  bodily ;  yet  the  body  is  laid 
down  at  death.  They  are  all  corporeal ;  yet  we  are  told 

ulcers.  The  second  stroke  will  make  your  body  twice  as  bad  as  the 
body  of  Job.  The  third  stroke  will  make  your  body  three  times 
as  bad  as  the  body  of  Job.  The  fourth  stroke  will  make  your  body 
four  times  as  bad  as  the  body  of  Job.  How,  then,  will  your  body 
be  after  the  devil  has  been  striking  it  every  moment  for  a  hundred 
millions  of  years  without  stopping  1”  ■ 

Next  comes  “  A  Dress  of  Fire  ”  :  — 

“  Job  xxxviii.  —  Are  not  thy  garments  hot  ?  Come  into  this 
room.  You  see  it  is  very  small.  But  see  in  the  midst  of  it  there  is 
a  girl,  perhaps  about  eighteen  years  old.  What  a  terrible  dress  she 
has  on,  —  her  dress  is  made  of  fire  !  On  her  head  she  wears  a  bon¬ 
net  of  fire.  It  is  pressed  down  all  over  her  head  ;  it  burns  her  head  ; 
it  burns  into  the  skin  ;  it  scorches  the  bone  of  the  skull  and  makes 
it  smoke.  The  red-hot,  fiery  heat  goes  into  the  brain  and  melts  it. 
Ezek.  xxii.  —  I  will  burn  you  in  the  fire  of  my  wrath  ;  you  shall  be 
melted  in  the  midst  thereof  as  silver  is  melted  in  the  fire.  You  do 
not,  perhaps,  like  a  headache.  Think  what  a  headache  that  girl 
must  have.  But  see  more.  She  is  wrapped  up  in  flames,  for  her 
frock  is  on  fire.  If  she  were  on  earth  she  would  be  burned  to  a  cin- 


ELSEWHERE. 


269 


that  our  coming  existence  is  a  spiritual  one.  They  are 
prepared  for  and  addressed  to  our  senseless  clay,  which  is 
mouldering  in  the  tomb,  dissolving  into  its  original  ele¬ 
ments,  and  perpetually  passing  into  new  combinations. 
The  necessary  counterpart  and  correlative  of  the  scriptural 
doctrine  of  a  material  Hell,  without  which  it  has  no 
meaning  or  coherence,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Resurrection 
of  the  body,  which  Bush,  in  his  “  Anastasis,”  has  shown 
to  he  neither  tenable  nor  scriptural.  It  is  impossible  for 
those  who  believe,  as  we  are  taught  to  do,  in  the  immate¬ 
riality  of  the  Soul,  in  the  spiritual  and  incorporeal  nature 
of  our  future  existence,  to  accept  the  doctrine  of  future 
torments  applicable  solely  to  our  fleshly  forms,  and  in- 

der  in  a  moment.  But  she  is  in  hell,  where  fire  burns  everything, 
but  burns  nothing  away.  There  she  stands  burning  and  scorched  ; 
there  she  Avill  stand  forever  burning  and  scorched.  She  counts 
with  her  fingers  the  moments  as  they  pass  away  slowly,  for  each 
moment  seems  to  her  like  a  hundred  years.  As  she  counts  the 
moments  she  remembers  that  she  will  have  to  count  them  for  ever 
and  ever.” 

The  children  are  then  favored  with  the  sight  of  a  boiling  boy  :  — 
“  But,  listen  !  there  is  a  sound  just  like  that  of  a  kettle  boiling.  Is 
it  really  a  kettle  which  is  boiling  ?  No.  Then  what  is  it  ?  Hear 
what  it  is.  The  blood  is  boiling  in  the  scalded  veins  of  that  boy. 
The  brain  is  boiling  and  bubbling  in  his  head.  The  marrow  is 
boiling  in  his  bones.” 

They  also  have  a  peep  at  a  baby  in  a  red-hot  oven  :  “  Hear  how 
it  screams  to  come  out  !  See  how  it  turns  and  twists  itself  about 
in  the  fire  !  It  beats  its  head  against  the  roof  of  the  oven.  It 
stamps  its  little  feet  on  the  floor  of  the  oven.  You  can  see  on  the 
face  of  this  little  child  what  you  see  on  the  faces  of  all  in  hell,  — 
despair,  desperate  and  horrible.” 


270 


r  ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


flicted  by  physical  elements  which  can  have  no  power 
over  disembodied  spirits.  If  the  place  of  retribution  be 
in  truth  a  burning  lake,  and  the  agents  of  suffering  be 
the  worm  and  flame,  then  “  flesh  and  blood  ”  must  be  the 
inheritors  of  Hell,  if  not  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven ; 
and  our  earthly  frames  must  be  re-collected,  re-formed  and 
re-animated  at  the  last  day  for  the  special  purpose  of  the 
penal  fire.  It  may  be  urged  that  we  do  not  know  what 
God  may  do ;  that  we  have  no  right  to  assume  that  our 
next  existence  will  be  either  an  incorporeal  one,  or  one 
of  such  “  spiritual  corporeity  ”  as  will  be  impassible  to 
flame ;  that  God  may  either  re-create  our  flesh,  or  endow 
fire  and  brimstone  with  power  over  our  disembodied 
essence  :  possibly ;  what  I  affirm  is  simply '  this,  that 
those  who  described  Hell  as  it  is  described  in  the  Rev¬ 
elations  and  in  the  language  of  Divines,  did  so  with 
reference  to  our  mortal  frames  ;  and  that  the  manifest 
and  felt  incongruity  between  the  crco/aa  irveofian/cov 
and  tortures  adapted  to  the  crw/Ma  ^u^lkov,  —  between 
an  immaterial  world,  an  existence  of  the  Soul,  a  spiritual 
essence,  and  a  lake  of  brimstone,  a  devouring  flame,  and 
a  gnawing  worm,  —  disarms  the  latter  of  all  their  reality 
and  all  their  terrors.  It  may  be  that  in  using  these  ex¬ 
pressions,  as  in  so  many  other  instances,  the  Scriptural 
Writers  spoke  metaphorically,  and  employed  such  lan¬ 
guage  as  would  best  awaken  the  dismay  of  auditors 
whose  merely  animal  nature  could  realize  animal  suffer¬ 
ing  only,  and  who  were  incapable  of  soaring  to  the  con¬ 
ception  of  an  incorporeal  existence.  But  why  then  do 
divines  persist  in  repeating  metaphors  so  singularly  inap- 


ELSEWHERE. 


271 


propriate,  and  in  using  the  same  earthly  images  when 
addressing  auditors  whom  at  the  same  time  they  teach  to 
regard  futurity  as  an  unearthly  state  ? 

II.  The  alleged  eternity  of  future  punishments  has  con¬ 
tributed  in  an  incalculable  degree  to  prevent  the  practical 
belief  and  realization  of  those  punishments.  The  common 
feelings  of  humanity  and  the  common  sentiments  of  justice, 
which  lie  deep  at  the  heart'  of  our  nature,  have,  in  this 
instance,  proved  too  strong  for  the  reiterated  assertions  of 
orthodoxy,  and  have  steadily  refused  to  accept  so  terrible 
a  tenet.  Yet  still,  with  a  curiosa  infelicitas  which  is  al¬ 
most  stupidity,  the  Church*  still  preaches  the  endless 
duration  of  future  torments  almost  as  confidently  as  the 
existence  of  those  torments.  The  inevitable  consequence 
is  that  the  general  and  instinctive  rejection  of  the  one 
tenet  entails  scepticism  with  regard  to  the  other  with 
which  it  is  thus  persistently  bound  up.  No  subtlety  of 
log  ;ic,  no  weight  of  authority,  will  induce  rightly  consti¬ 
tuted  minds,  which  allow  themselves  to  reason  at  all,  to 
admit  that  the  sins  or  failings  of  Time  can  merit  the 
retribution  of  Eternity,  —  that  finite  natures  can,  by  any 
guilt  of  which  they  are  capable,  draw  upon  themselves 
torments  infinite  either  in  essence  or  duration.  Divines 
tell  us  —  and  we  all  accept  the  saying  —  that  no  virtue 
on  the  part  of  frail  and  feeble  creatures  like  ourselves  can 

*  Scarcely,  perhaps.  The  Church  ;  but  still  the  self-styled  ortho¬ 
dox,  the  oi  7roXXot  of  the  clergy.  High  authorities  among  them, 
however,  are  beginning  to  proclaim  the  doctrine  to  be  as  unscriptural 
as  it  is  revolting.  See,  inter  alia ,  a  Paper  by  “  Anglicanus,”  in  the 
“Contemporary  Review”  for  May,  1872. 


272 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


merit  an  eternal  Heaven  ;  but  when  they  demand  our 
assent  to  the  opposite  and  contradictory  assertion  that  the 
shortcomings  and  backslidings  of  the  same  creatures  can 
and  do  merit  an  everlasting  Hell,  we  are  revolted  by  the 
inconsistency,  and  shrink  back  from  the  corollary  involved 
in  the  latter  proposition. 

III.  Another  point  particularly  difficult  of  belief  and 
realization  in  the  popular  doctrine  of  the  sufferings  of  a 
future  world,  is,  that  they  are  represented  as  penal,  not 
purgatorial,  —  retributive,  not  reformatory.  It  is  not  easy 
to  conceive  any  object  to  be  answered,  any  part  in  the 
great  plan  of  Providence  to  be  fulfilled,  by  the  infliction  of 
torments,  whether  temporary  or  perpetual,  which  are  neither 
to  serve  for  the  purification  of  those  who  endure  them,  nor 
needed  for  the  warning  of  those  who  behold  them,  since 
the  inhabitants  of  earth  do  not  see  them,  and  the  trans¬ 
lated  denizens  of  Heaven  do  not  require  them.  They  are 
simply  aimless  and  retrospective.  It  is  true  that,  in  the 
conception  of  the  philosopher,  they  are  inevitable ;  that 
future  suffering  is  the  natural  offspring  and  necessary 
consequence  of  present  sin :  but  this  is  not  the  view  of 
the  doctrine  we  are  considering,  nor  is  the  character  of  the 
sufferings  it  depicts  such  as  would  logically  flow  out  of 
the  sins  for  which  they  are  supposed  to  be  a  chastisement. 
The  Catholic  Church,  with  its  usual  profound  knowledge 
of  human  nature,  and  ready  system  of  providing  for  every 
want  and  guarding  against  every  objection,  has  invented 
purgatory  ;  and  by  this  means  has  undoubtedly  succeeded 
in  making  the  belief  in  and  realization  of  a  Hell  possible, 
to  say  the  least.  We  may  well  admit,  as  Catholics  are 


ELSEWHERE. 


273 


called  upon  to  do,  that  inflictions  more  severe,  pangs  more 
searching  and  more  lasting,  may  he  needed  and  provided 
in  a  future  world  for  those  whose  malignant  passions 
or  obstinate  carnality  the  milder  chastisements  of  earth 
failed  to  purge  away,  or  who,  by  the  unaccountable  arrange¬ 
ments  of  Providence,  escaped  tribulation  almost  or  alto¬ 
gether  here..  But  to  believe,  as  Protestants  are  required 
to  do,  that  all  these  fiercer  torments  will  be  inflicted  when 
no  conceivable  purpose  is  to  be  answered  by  their  infliction, 
when  the  suffering,  so  far  as  human  imagination  can  fathom 
the  case,  is  simply  gratuitous ,  is  assuredly  a  far  harder 
strain  upon  our  faith,  —  a  strain,  too,  which  is  hardest  on 
those  whose  feelings  are  the  most  humane,  and  whose 
notions  of  the  Deity  are  worthiest ;  on  those,  that  is,  who 
have  most  fully  imbibed  Christ’s  sentiments  and  views. 

IV.  As  if  bent  upon  surrounding  their  doctrine  of  future 
punishments  with  everything  that  could  make  it  thorny 
and  repellent,  Protestant  Divines  usually  assume  these 
punishments  to  be  indiscriminate  upon  all  who  are  con¬ 
demned  to  them.  Even  the  text  distinguishing  between 
the  many  stripes  to  be  awarded  to  him  who  sinned  know¬ 
ingly  and  wilfully,  and  the  few  stripes  to  be  inflicted  on 
him  who  sinned  ignorantly,  and  therefore  did  not  really 
sin  at  all,  is  rarely  referred  to.  Following  literally  and 
unintelligently  the  metaphor  of  the  sheep  and  the  goats,  — ■ 
the  right  hand  and  the  left  hand  of  the  coming  Judge, — 
Heaven  and  Hell,  in  their  current  language,  are  two  states, 
with  no  margin  for  mediocrity,  no  debatable  or  border 
land  between  them  for  those  who  deserve  neither,  or  whose 

merits  are  so  nearly  alike  that  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  say 

12* 


R 


274 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


which  deserve  which  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  with  a  great 
gulf,  a  broad,  bold  line  of  demarcation,  separating, 
through  all  future  ages  and  by  boundless  distances,  those 
whose  measure  of  sin  or  virtue  while  on  earth  was  scarce¬ 
ly  distinguishable  by  the  finest  and  most  delicate  moral 
electrometer.*  On  one  side  is  endless  happiness  —  the 
sight  of  God, 

“  That  perfect  presence  of  His  face 
Which  we,  for  want  of  words,  call  Heaven  ”  — 

for  those  whom  one  frailty  more,  one  added  weakness,  one 
hair’s-breadth  further  transgression,  would  have  justly 
condemned  to  dwell  forever  “  with  the  Devil  and  his 
Angels,”  an  outcast  from  Hope,  chained  to  his  iniquity 
forever,  alone  with  the  irreparable  !  On  the  other  side  is 
Hell,  the  scene  of  torture,  of  weeping,  and  gnashing  of 
teeth;  of  ceaseless  flame  and  the  undying  worm; 
where  he  “  that  is  filthy  must  be  filthy  still  ” ;  torment, 
not  for  a  period,  but  forever,  for  him  for  whom  one  effort 
more,  one  ounce  of  guilt  the  less,  might  have  turned  the 
trembling  balance,  and  opened  the  gates  of  an  eternal 
paradise  !  Human  feeling  and  human  reason  cannot  be¬ 
lieve  this,  though  they  may  admit  it  with  lip  assent ;  and 
the  Catholic  Church,  accordingly,  here  as  elsewhere,  steps 
in  to  present  them  with  the  via  media  which  is  needed. 
Purgatory,  ranging  from  a  single  day  to  a  century  of  ages, 
offers  that  border  land  of  discriminating  retribution  for 

*  Nay,  far  worse  ;  often  those  who  differed  here  only  in  their 
theological  opinions,  —  their  reception  or  rejection  of  some  unintel¬ 
ligible  dogma. 


ELSEWHERE. 


275 


which  justice  and  humanity  cry  out.  For  the  best  of  us 
have  some  frailty,  some  dark  stain,  which  requires  to  be 
purged  away  before  we  can  be  fit  for  admission  into  a 
world  of  perfect  purity  and  love  ;  and  the  worst  of  us  are 
conscious  of  loads  of  impurity  and  guilt  which,  compared 
with  the  faults  of  those  sisters  or  brethren  of  our  race  who 
are  "  a  little  lower  than  the  angels,”  are  as  a  thousand 
years  to  a  single  day. 

Yet  though  Theologians  have  virtually  all  but  de¬ 
stroyed  popular  faith  in  the  conventional  place  of  pun¬ 
ishment  by  the  language  in  which  they  have  habitually 
described  it,  and  the  incredibilities  with  which  they  have 
mixed  it  up,  surely,  surely  it  is  not  impossible  to  imagine 
a  future  world  of  retribution  in  such  form  and  coloring 
as  shall  be  easy  and  natural  to  realize,  as  shall  be,  not 
only  possible  to  believe,  but  impossible  to  disbelieve  ;  a 
world  of  which  we  shall  feel  that,  if  it  exist  at  all,  it  must 
be  such  as  we  delineate.  If  the  soul  is  destined  for  an 
existence  after  death,  then  (unless  a  miracle  is  worked  to 
prevent  it)  that  existence  must  be  one  of  retribution  to 
the  sinful,  and  of  purgatorial  suffering  to  the  frail  and 
feeble,  soul.  The  nature  of  the  retribution  will  be  deter¬ 
mined  by  the  nature  of  the  sin ;  and  the  character  of  the 
purifying  fires  will  be  indicated  by  the  character  of  the 
frailty  which  has  to  be  purged  away. 

When  the  portals  of  this  world  have  been  passed,  when 
time  and  sense  have  been  left  behind,  and  this  “  body  of 
death  ”  has  dropped  away  from  the  liberated  soul,  every¬ 
thing  which  clouded  the  perceptions,  which  dulled  the 


276 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


vision,  which  drugged  the  conscience,  while  on  earth,  will 
be  cleared  off  like  a  morning  mist.  W e  shall  see  all  things 
as  they  really  are ,  —  ourselves  and  our  sins  among  the 
number.  No  other  punishment,  whether  retributive  or 
purgatorial,  will  be  needed.  Naked  truth,  unfilmed  eyes, 
will  do  all  that  the  most  righteous  vengeance  could  de¬ 
sire.  Every  now  and  then  we  have  a  glimpse  of  such 
perceptions  while  on  earth.  Times  come  to  all  of  us 
when  the  passions,  by  some  casual  influence  or  some 
sobering  shock,  have  been  wholly  lulled  to  rest,  when  all 
disordered  emotions  have  drunk  repose 

“  From  the  cool  cisterns  of  the  midnight  air,” 

and  when,  for  a  few  brief  and  ineffectual  instants,  the 
temptations  which  have  led  us  astray,  the  pleasures  for 
which  we  have  bartered  away  the  future,  the  desires  to 
which  we  have  sacrificed  our  peace,  appear  to  us  in  all 
their  wretched  folly  and  miserable  meanness.  From  our 
feelings  then  we  may  form  a  faint  imagination  of  what 
our  feelings  will  be  hereafter,  when  this  occasional  and 
imperfect  glimpse  shall  have  become  a  perpetual  flood  of 
light,  irradiating  all  the  darkest  places  of  our  earthly 
pathway,  piercing  through  all  veils,  scattering  all  delu¬ 
sions,  burning  up  all  sophistries ;  when  the  sensual  man, 
all  desires  and  appetites  now  utterly  extinct ,  shall  stand 
amazed  and  horror-struck  at  the  low  promptings  to  which 
he  once  yielded  himself  up  in  such  ignominious  slavery, 
and  shall  shrink  in  loathing  and  shame  from  the  reflected 
image  of  his  own  animal  brutality ;  when  the  hard,  grasp¬ 
ing,  sordid  man,  come  now  into  a  world  where  luealth  can 


ELSEWHERE. 


9.T7 
-  1  ( 


purchase  nothing ,  where  gold  has  no  splendor  and  luxury 
no  meaning,  shall  be  almost  unable  to  comprehend  how 
he  could  ever  have  so  valued  such  unreal  goods ;  when 
the  malignant,  the  passionate,  the  cruel  man,  everything 
which  called  forth  his  vices  now  swept  away  with  the  former 
existence,  shall  appear  to  himself  as  he  appeared  to  others 
upon  earth,  shall  hate  himself  as  others  hated  him  on 
earth.  We  shall  see,  judge,  feel  about  all  things  there 
perfectly  and  constantly,  as  we  saw,  judged,  and  felt 
about  them  partially  in  our  rare  better  and  saner  mo¬ 
ments  here.  We  shall  think  that  we  must  have  been 
mad,  if  we  did  not  too  well  know  that  we  had  been  wil¬ 
ful.  Every  urgent  appetite,  every  boiling  passion,  every 
wild  ambition,  which  obscured  and  confused  our  reason 
here  below  will  have  been  burnt  away  in  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death ;  every  subtle  sophistry  with  which 
we  blinded  or  excused  ourselves  on  earth  will  have 
vanished  before  the  clear  glance  of  a  disembodied 
spirit ;  nothing  will  intervene  between  us  and  the  truth. 
Stripped  of  all  the  disguising  drapery  of  honeyed  words 
and  false  refractions,  we  shall  see  ourselves  as  we  are ; 
we  shall  judge  ourselves  as  God  has  always  judged  us. 
Our  lost  or  misused  opportunities  ;  our  forfeited  birth¬ 
right  ;  our  glorious  possibility,  ineffable  in  its  glory ; 
our  awful  actuality,  ineffable  in  its  awfulness ;  the 
nature  which  God  gave  us,  —  the  nature  we  have  made 
ourselves  ;  the  destiny  for  which  He  designed  us,  —  the 
destiny  to  which  we  have  doomed  ourselves  :  all  these 
things  will  grow  and  fasten  on  our  thoughts,  till  the  con¬ 
templation  must  terminate  in  madness,  were  not  madness 


278 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


a  mercy  belonging  to  the  world  of  flesh  alone.  In  the 
mere  superior  mental  capacities,  therefore,  consequent 
upon  spiritual  life,  we  cannot  fail  to  find  all  that  is 
needed,  or  can  be  pictured,  to  make  that  life  a  penal  and 
a  purgatorial  one. 

But  there  will  be  more  than  this.  We  shall  find,  in 
the  same  suffering  and  remorseful  world,  those  whose 
emancipation  we  would  now  purchase  at  any  cost,  had 
we  anything  wherewith  to  buy  it ;  those  whose  nurture 
we  neglected,  those  whose  temper  we  soured,  those  whose 
passions  we  aroused,  those  whose  reason  we  perverted, 
those  whose  conscience  we  confused  and  stupefied,  — 
those,  in  a  word,  for  whose  ruin  we  are  answerable.  We 
shall  have  to  bear  their  despairing  misery,  their  upbraiding 
looks ;  worse  than  all,  we  shall  have  to  bear,  here  again, 
our  own  present  perception  of  our  Past. 

But  there  is  yet  another  retributive  pang  in  wait  for  the 
sinful  soul,  which  belongs  to  the  very  nature  of  that  future 
world,  namely,  the  severance  from  all  those  we  love  who 
on  earth  have  trod  the  narrower  and  better  path.  The 
affections  do  not  belong  to  the  virtuous  alone ;  they  cling 
to  the  sinner  through  all  the  storms  and  labyrinths  of  sin ; 
they  are  the  last  fragments  of  what  is  good  in  him  that  he 
silences  or  lays  aside  or  tramples  out ;  they  belong,  not  to 
the  flesh,  but  to  the  spirit ;  and  a  spiritual  existence,  even 
if  a  suffering  one,  will  but  give  them  fresh  energy  and 
tenacity,  by  terminating  all  that  has  been  antagonistic  to 
them  here  below.  Who  shall  describe  the  yearning  love 
of  a  disencumbered  soul  ?  Who  can  adequately  conceive 
the  passionate  tenderness  with  which  it  will  cling  round 


ELSEWHERE. 


279 


the  objects  of  its  affection  in  a  world  where  every  other 
sentiment  or  thought  is  one  of  pain  ?  Yet  what  can  be 
more  certain,  because  what  more  in  the  essential  nature  of 
things,  than  that  the  great  revelation  of  the  Last  Day  (or 

M 

that  which  must  attend  and  be  involved  in  the  mere  en¬ 
trance  into  the  Spiritual  State)  will  effect  a  severance  of 
souls,  —  an  instantaneous  gulf  of  demarcation  between  the 
pure  and  the  impure,  the  just  and  the  unjust,  the  merciful 
and  the  cruel,  —  immeasurably  more  deep,  essential,  and 
impassable  than  any  which  time  or  distance  or  rank  or 
antipathy  could  effect  on  earth.  Here  we  never  see  into 
each  other’s  souls :  *  characters  the  most  opposite  and  in¬ 
compatible  dwell  together  upon  earth,  and  may  love  each 
other  much,  unsuspicious  of  the  utter  want  of  fundamental 
harmony  between  them.  The  aspiring  and  the  worldly 
may  have  so  much  in  common  and  may  both  instinctively 
conceal  so  much,  that  their  inherent  and  elemental  differ¬ 
ences  may  go  undiscovered  to  the  grave.  The  soul  that 
will  be  saved  and  the  soul  that  will  be  lost  may  cling 
round  each  other  here  with  wild  affection,  all  unconscious 
of  the  infinite  divergence  of  their  future  destiny.  The 
mother  will  love  her  son  with  all  the  devotion  of  her  11a- 

*  “  We  live  together  years  and  years, 

And  leave  unsounded  still 
Each  other’s  springs  of  hopes  and  fears, 

Each  other’s  depths  of  will. 

We  live  together  day  by  day, 

And  some  chance  look  or  tone 
Lights  up  with  instantaneous  ray 
An  inner  world  unknown.” 


R.  M.  Milnes. 


280 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


ture,  in  spite  or  in  ignorance  of  his  unworthiness  ;  that 
son  may  reciprocate  his  mother’s  love,  and  in  this  only  be 
not  unworthy :  the  blindness  which  is  kindly  given  us 
hides  so  much,*  and  affection  covers  such  a  multitude  of 
sins.  The  pure  and  holy  wife  and  the  frail  and  sinful 
husband  can  live  together  harmoniously  and  can  love 
fondly  here  below,  because  the  vast  moral  gulf  between 
them  is  mercifully  veiled  from  either  eye.  But  when  the 
great  curtain  of  ignorance  and  deception  shall  be  with¬ 
drawn,  “  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  made 
known,”  when  the  piercing  light  of  the  Spiritual  World 
shall  at  once  and  forever  disperse  those  clouds  which  have 
hidden  what  we  really  are  from  those  who  have  loved  us 
and  almost  from  ourselves,  when  the  trusting  confidence 
of  friendship  shall  discover  what  a  serpent  has  been  nour¬ 
ished  in  its  bosom,  when  the  yearning  mother  shall  per¬ 
ceive  on  what  a  guilty  wretch  all  her  boundless  and 
priceless  tenderness  has  been  lavished,  when  the  wife 
shall  at  length  see  the  husband  whom  she  cherished 

*  “  Or  what  if  Heaven  for  once  its  searching  light 
Lent  to  some  partial  eye,  disclosing  all 
The  rude,  had  thoughts  that  in  our  bosom’s  night 
Wander  at  large,  nor  heed  Love’s  gentle  thrall  ? 

“  Who  would  not  shun  the  dreary,  uncouth  place, 

As  if,  fond  leaning  where  her  infant  slept, 

A  mother’s  arm  a  serpent  should  embrace  :  — 

So  might  we  friendless  live,  and  die  unwept. 

“  Then  keep  the  softening  veil  in  mercy  drawn, 

Thou  who  canst  love  us  though  Thou  read  us  true.” 

Keble’s  Christian  Year. 


ELSEWHERE. 


281 


through  long  years  of  self-denying  and  believing  love  re¬ 
vealed  in  his  true  colors,  a  wholly  alien  creature,  —  what  a 
sudden,  convulsive,  inevitable,  because  natural,  separation 
between  the  clean  and  the  unclean  will  then  take  place ! 
The  gulf  which  has  alleys  existed  is  recognized  and  felt  at 
last ;  corruption  can  no  longer  consort  with  incorruption  ; 
the  lion  cannot  lie  down  with  the  lamb,  nor  the  leopard 
with  the  kid.  One  flash  of  light  has  done  it  all.  The 
merciful  delusions  which  held  friends  together  upon  earth 
are  dispersed,  and  the  laws  of  the  mind  must  take  their 
course  and  divide  the  evil  from  the  good.  But  though  the 
link  is  severed,  the  affection  is  not  thereby  destroyed.  The 
friend,  the  husband,  the  lover,  the  son,  thus  cut  adrift  by 
a  just  and  natural  though  bitter  retribution,  love  still ;  nay, 
they  love  all  the  more  fervently,  all  the  more  yearningly, 
in  that  they  now  discern  with  unclouded  vision  all  that 
bright  beauty,  all  that  rich  nature  of  the  objects  of  their 
tenderness,  of  which  their  dim  eyesight  could  on  earth 
perceive  only  a  part.  Then  will  begin  a  retribution  in¬ 
deed,  the  appropriate  anguish,  the  desolate  abandonment 
of  which,  who  can  paint,  and  who  will  be  able  to  bear ! 
To  see  those  we  love,  as  we  never  loved  till  then,  turn  from 
our  grasp  and  our  glance  of  clasping  and  supplicating 
fondness  with  that  unconquerable  loathings  which  virtue 
must  feel  towards  guilt  and  with  which  purity  must  shrink 
from  stain ;  to  see  those  eyes,  never  turned  on  us  before 
save  in  gentleness  and  trust,  now  giving  us  one  last  glance 
of  divine  sadness  and  ineffable  farewell :  to  watch  those 

j 

forms,  whose  companionship  cheered  and  illuminated  all 
the  dark  places  of  our  earthly  pilgrimage,  and  once  and 


282 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


again  had  almost  redeemed  us  from  the  bondage  and  the 
mire  of  sin,  receding,  vanishing,  melting  in  the  bright  dis- 
,  tance,  to  join  a  circle  where  they  ivill  need  us  not,  to  tread 
a  path  to  which  ours  bears  no  parallel  and  can  make  no 
approach ;  and  then  to  turn  inward  and  downward,.  and 
realize  our  lot,  and  feel  our  desolation,  and  reflect  that  we 
have  earned  it :  what  has  Poetry  or  Theology  pictured 
that  can  compete  with  a  Gehenna  such  as  this ! 


Divines  have  been  nearly  as  unfortunate  and  as  far 
from  reality  in  their  delineations  of  the  joys  of  Heaven 
as  of  the  pains  of  Hell.  The  conception  formed  by  one 
mind,  and  that  one  a  peculiar,  narrow,  and  abnormal 
mind,  of  a  state  of  bliss  has  been  stereotyped,  and  called 
Heaven.  The  picture  which  excited  and  engrossed  the 
fancy  of  the  author  of  the  Book  of  Revelations  has  been 
thrust  upon  all  other  men,  however  diversely  constituted, 
as  “  the  Heaven  of  the  Bible,”  the  Paradise  of  God,  the 
place  which  Christ  “  was  gone  to  prepare  for  us.”  It  was 
to  be  a  scene  of  gorgeous  splendor  and  of  ceaseless  wor¬ 
ship.  Those  who  did  not  relish  or  earnestly  desire  such 
a  life,  those  whose  imaginations  were  not  kindled  into 
transport  at  the  picture,  or  who  ventured  to  form  a  differ¬ 
ent  conception  of  supernal  bliss  from  that  which  floated 
before  the  visions  of  the  elect,  were  held  to  show  a  carnal 
and  unregenerate  nature  which  could  have  neither  part 
nor  lot  in  so  ^sublime  a  world.  It  is  true  that  more 
human  divines  spoke  of  reunion  with  the  loved,  as  well 
as  of  admission  to  the  throne  of  the  Most  High,  of  the 


ELSEWHERE. 


283 


companionship  of  kindred  and  friends,  as  well  as  of  “  the 
presence  of  the  power  of  God,”  and  of  perpetual  praise 
and  prayer.  But  this  was  regarded  as  a  concession ;  it 
was  scarcely  rigid  orthodoxy  ;  it  was  undeniably  not  the 
most  prominent  feature  of  “  the  glory  to  be  revealed  ”  ; 
it  lay  in  the  background  of  all  the  splendid  and  sublime 
imagery  of  St.  John.  Those  poor  human  souls  who  felt 
almost  justified  by  the  language  of  their  Master  in  loving 
their  brother  whom  they  had  seen  more  than  God  whom 
they  had  not  seen,  and  who  felt  that,  whether  justified  or 
not,  they  did  so  and  could  not  help  doing  so,  were  scowled 
away  from  the  Gate  of  the  Eternal  City.  Worship  was 
to  be  the  sole  need,  occupation,  joy,  of  the  beatific  state. 
What  wonder  that  the  humble,  the  unimaginative,  the 
tender,  the  human,  felt  no  yearnings  towards  the  cold, 
strange,  pallid  unreality  ! 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  favorite  delineations  of 
Heaven  are  almost  wholly  suggested  or  colored  by  the 
Book  of  Revelations,  in  which  the  descriptions,  magnifi¬ 
cently  splendid  and  sometimes  sublime,  are  yet,  if  we 
except  seven  verses  of  the  twenty-first  chapter,  almost 
wholly  material.  And  not  only  so,  but  the  material 
elements  are  by  no  means  the  noblest  that  might  have 
been  chosen.  The  Hew  Jerusalem  is  painted  as  some¬ 
thing  between  a  gorgeous  palace,  and  a  dazzling  conventi¬ 
cle.  The  picture  is  of  a  city,  —  of  thrones  of  sapphire, 
and  crowns  of  gold ;  of  rainbows  of  emerald  ;  of  walls 
and  pavements  of  jasper  and  topaz  and  amethyst  and  chal¬ 
cedony  ;  of  streets  of  glass  and  gates  of  pearl :  brilliant 
ingredients,  no  doubt,  to  an  Oriental  imagination,  but 


284 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


“  Poor  fragments  all  of  this  low  earth, 

Such  as  in  dreams  could  hardly  soothe 
A  soul  that  once  had  tasted  of  immortal  truth.” 

The  writer’s  conception  of  what  befitted  the  Temple  of 
the  Lord  and  the  dwelling  of  the  redeemed  embraced 
rather  the  rare  curiosities  than  the  common  loveliness  of 
nature :  palaces  and  jewels  and  precious  stones,  —  not 
gentle  streams  and  shady  groves  and  woodland  glades  and 
sunny  valleys  and  eternal  mountains  and  the  far-off  mur¬ 
mur  of  a  peaceful  ocean.  His  Heaven  was  a  scene  of  mag¬ 
nificent  ornamentation  rather  than  of  solemn  beauty ;  of 
glory,  not  of  love  and  bliss.  It  might  kindle  his  fancy :  it 
chills  ours.  Even  our  material  paradise  would  be  differ¬ 
ently  pictured.  There  may  be  all  these  things  in  Heaven  ; 
but  there  will  be  what  will  throw  all  these  accessaries  into 
the  shade.  “  There  may  be  crowns  of  material  splendor  ; 
there  may  be  trees  of  unfading  loveliness  ;  there  may  be 
pavements  of  emerald ;  and  canopies  of  the  brightest 
radiance ;  and  gardens  of  deep  and  tranquil  security ; 
and  palaces  of  proud  and  stately  decoration ;  and  a  city 
of  lofty  pinnacles,  through  which  there  unceasingly  flows 
a  river  of  gladness,  and  where  jubilee  is  ever  rung  by  a 
concord  of  seraphic  voices.  But  these  are  only  the  ac¬ 
cessaries  of  Heaven.  They  form  not  the  materials  of  its 
substantial  loveliness.  Of  this,  the  man  who  toils  in 
humble  drudgery,  an  utter  stranger  to  the  delights  of 
sensible  pleasure,  or  the  fascinations  of  sensible  glory, 
has  already  got  a  foretaste  in  his  heart.  It  consists  not 
in  the  enjoyment  of  created  good,  nor  in  the  survey  of 
created  magnificence.  It  is  drawn  in  a  direct  stream 


ELSEWHERE. 


285 


through  the  channels  of  love  and  contemplation  from  the 
fulness  of  the  Creator.  It  emanates  from  the  counte¬ 
nance  of  God,  manifesting  the  spiritual  glories  of  his  holy 
and  perfect  character  on  those  whose  characters  are  kin¬ 
dred  to  his  own.  And  if  on  earth  there  is  no  tendency 
towards  such  a  character,  no  process  of  restoration  to  the 
lost  image  of  the  Godhead,  no  delight  in  prayer,  no  relish 
for  the  sweets  of  intercourse  with  the  Father  now  unseen 
but  then  to  be  revealed,  —  then,  let  our  imaginations 
kindle  as  they  may  at  the  beatitudes  of  our  fictitious 
Heaven,  the  true  Heaven  is  what  we  shall  never  reach, 
because  it  is  a  Heaven  we  are  not  fitted  to  enjoy.”  * 

The  most  repellent  mistake  of  Divines  in  their  delinea¬ 
tions  of  Heaven  has  perhaps  been  the  uniformity  they 
have  attributed  to  its  beatitudes.  Men  in  this  life  ex¬ 
hibit  infinite  varieties  of  character,  craving,  and  capacity ; 
and  all  this  within  the  limits  of  virtuous  desire  and  of 
righteous  effort.  We  see  individuals  here,  differing  from 
each  other  in  almost  every  taste  and  sentiment,  in  the 
characters  they  specially  admire,  in  the  objects  they  most 
strenuously  aim  at,  —  of  whom,  nevertheless,  we  cannot 
pronounce  that  one  is  a  more  faithful  servant  of  duty,  or 
likely  to  be  more  acceptable  to  God  than  another.  There 
are  good  men  of  every  phase  and  peculiarity  of  goodness ; 
there  are  ardent  and  unwearied  “  fellow-laborers  with 
God  ”  in  every  corner  of  the  vineyard,  —  in  all  the 
countless  departments  of  His  infinitely  varied  husbandry. 
There  are  those  whom  God  sanctifies  for  the  patient  en- 


*  Dr.  Chalmers. 


286 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


durance  of  His  heaviest  will.  There  are  those  whom  he 
energizes  for  rough  duties  of  conflict  or  of  toil,  —  of 
daring  strife  or  plodding  drudgery.  There  are  those 
“  who  serve,  yet  only  stand  and  wait.”  There  are  those 
whom  he  softens  and  purifies  that  they  may  radiate  love 
and  serenity  around  them.  There  are  those,  finally,  whom 
He  has  set  apart  to  glorify  and  serve  him  by  the  discov¬ 
ery  of  truth  and  the  diffusion  of  knowledge.  The  variety 
which  we  observe  among  the  candidates  for  Heaven  here 
below  belongs,  then,  to  human  nature,  not  to  fallen  na¬ 
ture  ;  it  inheres,  not  in  our  imperfections,  but  in  our 
incompleteness ;  it  exists  in  us,  not  because  we  are  earthly 
and  sinful,  but  because  we  are  men  and  not  angels,  — 
because,  in  a  wTord,  we  are  that  peculiar  modification  of 
sentient  and  intelligent  existences  which  it  has  pleased 
the  Creator  to  make  us,  and  no  other. 

If  this  were  not  so ;  if  God  had  made  us  all  in  one 
mould,  so  that  we  differed  from  one  another  only  as  we 
were  more  or  less  frail  and  guilty ;  if  there  were  some 
one  ideal  standard,  divergence  from  which  by  special 
development  in  one  direction  or  another  were  in  itself  a 
lapse  from  good ;  if  unmurmuring  submission,  if  stern 
resistance  to  evil,  if  daring  and  aggressive  energy,  if 
overflowing  and  all-embracing  love,  must  each  abnegate 
its  peculiarity  and  put  on  its  opposite,  before  it  could  do 
God’s  work  or  obtain  his  smile ;  if  the  stern  soldier  of 
duty  must  become  the  melting  child  of  tenderness  and 
pity  ;  if,  in  fine,  God  meant  mankind  to  be  a  regiment  in 
uniform ,  not  a  hierarchy  of  Servants,  each  with  his  special 
mission  and  his  special  capacity  to  perform  it,  and  senti- 


287 


ELSEWHERE. 

ments  and  characteristics  in  conformity  therewith  ;  —  then 
there  might  be  some  ground  for  the  idea  that  Death  will 
be  a  process  of  mental  and  moral  assimilation,  and  that, 
as  they  enter  the  immortal  state,  God  will  pass  a  flatten- 
ing-iron  over  all  w7ho  “  shall  be  found  worthy  to  attain 
to  the  resurrection  of  the  Just,”  and  smooth  out  every 
salient  individuality  whether  of  capacity  or  aspiration. 
But  who  that  contemplates  the  varied  forms  of  human 
excellence,  all  sanctioned  by  Divine  approval,  can  find 
either  probability  or  comfort  in  so  strange  a  doctrine  ? 
“  In  my  Father’s  House  are  many  mansions.” 

If,  then,  we  are  to  preserve  our  essential  identity  in 
that  other  world,  —  and  on  what  other  supposition  can 
we  even  conceive  or  desire  a  future  existence  ?  —  indi¬ 
viduals  must  be  marked  by  divergencies  analogous  to 
those  which  have  prevailed  on  earth.  With  a  purged 
vision  and  a  spiritualized  being,  those  exclusive  and  dis¬ 
proportionate  estimates  which  so  aggravate  and  perpetu¬ 
ate  discrepancies  of  aim  and  character  below,  will  of 
course  be  corrected ;  but  that  the  active  and  energetic 
spirit  should  at  once  become  contemplative,  that  the 
earnest  inquirer  after  truth  should  at  once  merge  into 
the  worshipper,  or  that  she  whose  soul  was  love  should 
suddenly  become  the  Seraph  searching  after  knowledge, 
—  these  are  metamorphoses  which  have  no  analogy  with 
what  we  know  of  the  Divine  action,  and  which  we  can 
see  no  reason  whatever  to  anticipate.  The  nature  which 
God  bestowed  has  an  individual  stamp  and  character 
which  belongs  to  it,  and  cannot  be  separated  from  it.  Its 
errors  may  be  corrected,  its  exuberances  pared  away,  its 


288 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


deficiencies  supplied,  and  its  scope  enlarged,  but  it  will 
remain  a  distinctive  and  integral  existence,  through 
Eternity,  as  in  Time. 

If  this  be  so,  then  the  spiritual  world  cannot  be  the 
state  of  uniform  and  monotonous  existence  which  ortho¬ 
doxy  paints  it.  What  divines  have  done  for  themselves, 
let  each  of  us  do  for  ourselves.  They  have  drawn  Heaven 
as  they  fancy  they  ought  to  desire  it ;  let  us  picture  it 
such  as  we  imagine  it  may  be,  as  far  as  faint  human 
words  can  go.  In  doing  this  we  shall  be  putting  aside  in 
favor  of  our  own  dim  taper  no  superior  light  or  knowl¬ 
edge  which  has  been  bequeathed  to  us ;  for  with  the 
exception  of  the  Apocalypse  (which  we  may  put  aside 
with  as  little  scruple  as  Luther  did),  one  of  the  most 
noticeable  peculiarities  of  the  Scripture  references  to 
heaven  is  their  vagueness  and  reserve :  they  tie  up  and 
chill  our  aspirations  by  no  definite  chart  or  picture  of  that 
future  world  ;  the  canvas  only  is  given  us ;  we  may  paint 
upon  it  nearly  what  we  please. 

Eor,  be  it  remembered,  what  is  promised  to  us,  or  what 
we  are  permitted  to  anticipate,  is  a  state  of  existence 
which  will  be  Heaven  to  us ;  not  one  which,  though  it  may 
be  a  beatific  vision  to  our  differently  constituted  neigh¬ 
bors,  would  seem  a  dreary  desert  to  ourselves.  Eor 
example,  to  me  God  has  promised,  not  the  heaven  of  the 
ascetic  temper,  or  the  dogmatic  theologian,  or  of  the 
subtle  mystic,  or  of  the  stern  martyr  ready  alike  to  inflict 
and  bear,  but  a  heaven  of  purified  and  permanent  affec¬ 
tions  ;  of  a  book  of  knowledge  with  eternal  leaves,  and 
unbounded  capacities  to  read  it ;  of  those  we  love  ever 


ELSEWHERE. 


289 


round  us,  never  misconceiving  us,  or  being  harassed  by 
us  ;  of  glorious  work  to  do,  and  adequate  faculties  to  do 
it ;  a  ivorld  of  solved  problems ,  as  well  as  of  realized 
ideals.  The  many  mansions  in  my  Father’s  House  are 
many,  not  in  number  only,  but  in  variety.  Our  allotted 
mansion  will  have  been  prepared  for  us;  not  for  some 
one  else  with  whom  we  have  little  in  common  but  the 
original  elements  of  our  nature,  whose  trials,  powers, 
arena,  duties,  have  all  been  different. 

And,  first,  it  will  be  a  world  of  Peace  and  Pest,  for 
the  weary  and  heavy-laden  will  be  there.  Hone  but 
those  —  and  how  many  there  are  God  only  knows  —  who 
through  life  have  been  bowed  to  the  earth  by  a  weight  of 
care  and  toil  and  ceaseless  pressure  which  often  seemed 
too  heavy  to  be  borne,  have  an  idea  of  the  perfect  paradise 
which  is  comprised  in  that  one  word,  —  “  rest.”  “  He 
giveth  His  beloved  sleep!’  *  To  feel  the  burden  roll  from 
their  shoulders,  as  it  did  from  that  of  Christian,  as  they 
pass  the  threshold  of  the  Shining  Gate,  to  know  that  the 
race  is  ended,  that  the  haven  is  reached,  that  the  strained 
nerves  may  be  at  length  relaxed,  that  the  unsleeping 
vigilance  which  so  tasked  their  strength  is  needed  no 
more,  and  that  a  repose  that  can  never  be  broken  may  be 

*  “  Of  all  the  thoughts  of  God  that  are 
Borne  inward  unto  Souls  afar, 

Along  the  Psalmist’s  music  deep, 

Now  tell  me  if  that  any  is, 

For  gift  or  grace  surpassing  this  :  — 

‘  He  giveth  His  Beloved  sleep.’  ” 

Miss  Barrett. 

13  e 


290 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


suffered  to  steal  over  the  worn  and  wearied  frame  !  “  I 

thank  thee,  0  God !  that  the  hard  struggle  of  living  is 
over.”  This  is  the  first  instinctive  conception  of  heaven 
to  those 

“  Whom  Time  has  wearied  in  its  race  of  Hours,” 
as  they  sink  to  sleep  when  the  sharp  malady  of  life  is 
over,  grateful  for  the  quiet  of  the  grave  and  the  hope  of  a 
serener  world. 

And  another  class  of  the  weary  will  he  there,  resting 
at  last  in  the  beautiful  and  tranquil  world  they  thirsted 
for  so  long,  where  the  spirit  shall  be  always  willing  and 
the  flesh  never  weak,  —  those,  I  mean,  worn  out  less  by 
the  fatigues  of  the  world  than  by  the  strife  of  a  turbid 
temperament ;  to  whom  urgent  appetites,  boiling  passions, 
and  a  critical  position  have  made  life  an  hourly  conflict 
with  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil ;  who,  though  they 
have  endured  to  the  end,  have  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the 
internecine  struggle,  and  have  over  and  over  been  on  the 
point  of  resigning  the  contest  in  despair.  We  are  most 
of  us  like  this ;  and  a  Heaven  which  shall  put  an  end  to 
"  the  fatal  war  which  our  desires  have  too  long  waged  with 
our  destiny  ”  may  still  be  our  inheritance  and  home.  We 
may  have  sinned  frightfully  and  long ;  we  may  have  been 
feeble,  faithless,  half-hearted,  and  cowardly ;  relapse  may 
have  succeeded  relapse,  till  mercy  would  have  been  wearied 
out  if  mercy  were  a  human  thing ;  but  the  essential  point 
still  is,  that  the  Great  Hay,  whenever  it  come,  shall  find  us 
not  turned  back,  but,  however  distant,  halting,  covered  with 
the  mire  of  innumerable  falls,  “  with  our  face  set  as  though 
we  would  go  to  Jerusalem.”  If  so,  we  shall  have  “  saved 


ELSEWHERE. 


291 


our  souls  alive  ” ;  our  flickering  lamp  may  need  the  ten- 
derest  care  to  keep  it  still  alight  and  to  feed  it  with  the  oil 
which  may  ultimately  nourish  it  into  a  steady  and  endur¬ 
ing  flame ;  our  pale  souls  may,  in  shrinking  and  humilia¬ 
tion,  have  to  take  the  lowest  place  among  the  remotest 
ranks  of  the  countless  hosts  which  circle  the  Eternal 
Throne ;  ages  of  effort  may  lie  before  us  ;  appalling  ar¬ 
rears  of  work  which  ought  to  have  been  done  on  earth 
may  stretch  in  endless  vistas  before  us  ;  those  at  whose 
side  we  would  fain  have  walked  through  the  sweet  path¬ 
ways  of  the  Spiritual  Kingdom  may  be  forever  beyond 
our  reach  (for,  alas  !  there  is  no  overtaking  possible  in  that 
just  world) ;  but,  at  least,  we  shall  have  carried  with  us 
the  germ  of  an  Immortal  Being  over  the  threshold  of  that 
scene  where  nothing  that  enters  can  ever  die. 

And  the  young  will  be  there,  with  their  yet  untamed 
and  unblunted  energies,  not  wearied  and  disheartened,  as 
lifelong  laborers  are  here,  with  rolling  the  stone  of  Sisyphus 
up  an  interminable  hill.  And  the  aged  will  be  there,  with 
their  contemplative  and  passionless  serenity.  And  for 
both  will  be  provided  an  appropriate  work  and  an  appro¬ 
priate  enjoyment.  For  that  world  can  scarcely  be  pictured 
as  an  idle  one.  The  Great  Spirit  will  have  behests  to  be 
carried  out,  to  be  the  ministers  of  which  will  be  the  rich 
reward  and  the  eternal  occupation  of  activity  and  strength. 
It  may  be  that  all  these  behests  might  be  far  more  easily, 
far  more  simply,  carried  out  without  the  intervention  of 
translated  human  effort ;  it  may  be  that  there,  as  here,  a 
will,  a  word,  would  suffice  for  the  instantaneous  result : 

“  He  spake  and  it  was  done ;  He  commanded  and  it  stood 


292 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


fast.”  But  here,  we  know,  He  works  through  human 
agency :  why  should  we  not  imagine  that  there  the  anal¬ 
ogy  of  His  dealings  will  be  preserved,  and  that  men,  be¬ 
come  angels,  will  be  His  agents  in  Heaven.  For  the  Just 
not  yet  made  Perfect,*  there  will  be  missions  of  mercy,  to 
rescue  the  despairing ;  missions  of  aid,  to  strengthen  those 
who  strive  ;  missions  of  consolation,  to  comfort  those  who 
weep ;  missions  of  instruction,  to  guide  the  blind ;  missions 
of  conflict,  to  combat  and  conquer  evil.  There  will  be 
worlds  to  be  guided  and  redeemed,  worlds,  it  may  be,  to 
be  created,  worlds  to  be  “  brought  out  of  darkness  into  His 
marvellous  light.”  And  the  loving  soul  will  be  sent  to 
bind  up  the  broken-hearted ;  and  the  serene  soul  to  breathe 
peace  to  the  cumbered,  the  harassed,  and  the  way-worn ; 
and  the  fiery  soul  to  do  loyal  battle  with  the  powers  of 
evil.  The  Hero  will  have  a  field  of  holy  conquest  assigned 
him,  in  which  he  need  fear  no  defeat,  and  will  have  to 
weep  over  no  tarnished  or  dear-bought  victory.  The 
Prophet,  who  on  earth  spoke  so  often  to  deaf  ears,  with 
imperfect  knowledge,  and  an  uncertain  mind,  will  be  sent 
forth  upon  a  wider  mission,  with  ampler  credentials  and 
sublimer  powers.  No  healthy  energy  need  fear  to  lie  un¬ 
used,  no  virtuous  activity  will  waste  away  in  idleness,  no 
sword  of  true  temper  will  rust  within  its  sheath.f 

*  “  And  doubtless  unto  thee  is  given 
A  life  that  bears  immortal  fruit 
In  such  great  offices  as  suit 
The  full-grown  energies  of  Heaven.” 

In  Memoriam. 

t  “  Peace  is  God’s  direct  assurance 
To  the  souls  that  win  release 


ELSEWHERE. 


293 


And  the  wise  and  searching  of  this  world  will  he  there ; 
those  who,  with  pain  and  toil,  with  untiring  zeal  yet  with 
small  result,  used  the  faculties  which  God  had  given  them 
to  decipher  and  comprehend  the  wonders  laid  before  them ; 
whom  piety  and  science  had  combined  to  consecrate,  —  the 
Priests  of  Nature,  the  Martyrs  of  knowledge.  The  things 
which  here  they  saw  only  “  through  a  glass  darkly,”  they 
will  there  discern  in  the  full  illumination  of  the  light  of 
God.  The  whole  curtain  will  he  drawn  up,  of  which  here 
they  could  only  for  a  moment  raise  a  corner,  and  the  field 
of  vision,  so  bounded  here,  will  be  without  limit  or  horizon 
there.  Earth  has  shown  them  but  the  title-page  of  a  Book 
which  it  will  be  given  them  to  read  in  Heaven.  Their 
utmost  efforts  here  have  shown  them  but  the  smallest  por- 

From  this  world  of  hard  endurance,  — 

Peace,  he  tells  us,  only  Peace. 

“  To  this  life’s  inquiring  traveller, 

Peace  of  knowledge  of  all  good  ; 

To  the  anxious  truth-unraveller, 

Peace  of  wisdom  understood. 

“  To  the  lover,  full  fruition 
Of  an  unexhausted  joy  ; 

To  the  warrior,  crowned  ambition 
With  no  envy’s  base  alloy. 

“  To  the  ruler,  sense  of  action, 

Working  out  his  great  intent ;  — 

To  the  Prophet,  satisfaction 
In  the  mission  he  was  sent.” 

Palm  Leaves ,  by  Lord  PIoughton. 


294 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


tion  of  the  wonderful  facts  of  this  little  planet.  There 
will  be  before  them,  inviting  their  research  and  feeding  it 
with  fresh  results  through  immortal  ages,  not  only  our 
Earth,  but  the  System  to  which  it  belongs ;  next  that 
firmament  composed  of  countless  myriads  of  stars  with 
their  attendant  worlds,  of  which  that  system  forms  one  of 
the  smallest  units ;  then  all  those  remoter  galaxies,  the 
bare  existence  of  which  is  all  that  we  can  discover  here, 
which  lie  embosomed  in  absymal  space  far  beyond  the  far¬ 
thest  limits  of  our  Milky  Way.  There  will  be  the  secrets 
of  Time  as  well  as  those  of  Space  for  us  to  learn ;  the  foot¬ 
steps  of  the  Eternal  in  all  worlds  during  those  immeas¬ 
urable  epochas  and  ages  of  the  Past,  which  Geology  and 
Astronomy  dimly  agree  to  indicate ;  the  existences,  the 
evolutions,  the  tragedies,  and  the  redemptions  which  now 
we  can  barely  and  dimly  conjecture,  but  which  then  will 
form  the  feast  and  pasture  of  our  daily  life.  There  will 
be  forms  of  Being  to  investigate,  far  up  through  grada¬ 
tions  and  cycles  which  distance  all  human  fancy,  —  their 
nature,  history,  feelings,  motives,  and  destiny. 

“  Here  must  I  stop, 

Or  is  there  aught  beyond  ?  What  hand  unseen 
Impels  me  onward  through  the  glowing  orbs 
Of  habitable  nature,  far  remote, 

To  the  dread  confines  of  eternal  Night  ; 

To  solitudes  of  vast,  unpeopled  space, 

The  deserts  of  creation,  wide  and  wild, 

Where  embryo  systems  and  unkindled  suns 
Sleep  in  the  womb  of  chaos  ?  —  Fancy  droops, 

And  Thought,  astonished,  stops  her  bold  career.” 

Mrs.  Barbauld. 


ELSEWHERE. 


295 


And  thousands  of  pious  and  perplexed  inquirers  will  be 
there,  who,  during  long  years  of  faith  and  meditation, 
sought,  and  sought  in  vain,  the  solution  of  the  dark  enig¬ 
mas  of  existence  ;  whose  prayer  was  for  Light  (eV  8e  Qaeu 
kcll  oXecraov)  ;  whose  spirits,  aspiring  forever  to  pierce 
those  sad  and  solemn  mysteries  which  cast  such  midnight 
gloom  over  all  thoughtful  souls  and  drive  the  less  trustful 
to  despair,  forever  fell  hack  baffled  and  disheartened,  but 
unshaken  in  fidelity  and  love.  They  have  prayed  and 
hoped  for  Heaven,  not  as  a  scene  of  happiness  or  recom¬ 
pense,  but  as  a  world  of  Explanation,  where  their  ques¬ 
tions  would  be  answered  and  their  difficulties  solved.  On 
earth  the  grievous  and  incomprehensible  dispensations  of 
Providence  beset  them  before  and  behind,  and  laid  a  heavy 
hand  upon  thehi,  but  could  not  drive  them  from  their 
anchor  of  hope  sure  and  steadfast.  Will  not  their  confi¬ 
dence  be  justified  to  them  in  their  “  Father’s,  House  ”  ?  * 
For  years,  generations,  centuries,  they  saw  glorious 
efforts  baffled,  pure,  high  hopes  discomfited  and  crushed, 
good  seed,  sown  with  care  and  watered  with  the  blood  of 
martyrs,  choked  or  carried  off,  and  never  fructifying; 
hey  saw  fraud  and  rapine,  brutality  and  barbarism,  ram¬ 
pant  and  omnipotent,  and  justice,  truth,  and  innocence 
trampled  in  the  dust ;  the  good  cause  ruined  and  the  bad 
triumphant;  the  servants  of  God  everywhere  defeated 

*  “  They  trusted  God  was  Love  indeed, 

And  love  Creation’s  final  law,  — 

Though  Nature,  red  in  tooth  and  claw 
With  ravine,  shrieked  against  the  creed.” 

In  Memoriam. 


296 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


and  liis  purposes  apparently  thwarted  and  overruled ; 
they  saw  myriads  of  His  creatures  doomed  through  life 
to  darkness,  to  suffering,  to  hopeless  ignorance  and  inev¬ 
itable  vice ;  and  they  stood  aghast,  shuddering,  and 
perplexed  at  the  seeming  contravention  of  the  Divine 
decrees.  These  mysteries  made  their  wretchedness  here. 
Will  not  the  solution  of  them  make  their  happiness 
hereafter  ?  And  as,  with  eyes  purged  from  the  mists  of 
mortality,  and  powers  strengthened  by  the  elixir  of  spir¬ 
itual  life,  they  approach  those  problems  which  were  too 
intricate  and  too  profound  for  earthly  intellects  to  grapple 
with,  will  they  not  marvel  how  simple  is  the  key  that 
opens  and  elucidates  them  all  ? 

The  loving  and  the  tender  will  be  there.  It  would 
seem  even  as  if  Heaven  was  in  some  especial  manner 
their  rightful  inheritance :  Love  is  so  infinite,  and  its 
earthly  horizon  so  bounded,  its  earthly  development  so 
imperfect,  its  earthly  catastrophes  so  sad ;  its  undying 
tenacity,  its  profound  tenderness,  and  its  boundless  yearn¬ 
ings  seem  so  incongruous,  as  constrasted  with  its  frail 
objects,  and  its  poor  performances,  and  its  momentary 
life.  There  are  those,  and  the  denizens  of  our  anticipated 
world  may  consist  of  them  in  overwhelming  proportion, 
of  whose  nature  affection  has  been  the  main-spring,  the 
strength,  the  sunbeam,  the  beauty  ;  whose  heart  has  been 
their  chiefest  treasure ;  to  whom  fame,  ambition,  power, 
success,  have  been  at  best  only  the  casual  and  outside 
objects  of  existence ;  .  who,  in  a  word,  lived  on  love. 
Generation  after  generation,  age  after  age,  through  the 


ELSEWHERE. 


297 


countless  cycles  of  the  Past,  human  creatures  have  linked 
themselves  together,  never  dreaming  that  their  connection 
was  limited  by  time,  or  that  their  ties  would  be  severed 
by  the  Great  Destroyer,  and  have  consigned  the  husk  and 
framework  of  their  cherished  companions  to  the  dust, 
never  doubting  that  these  comrades  watched  over  them 
from  the  spiritual  world,  and  were  waiting  to  receive 
them  when  the  years  were  ripe.  Millions  in  all  times 
have  walked  courageously  into  the  Great  Darkness,  satis¬ 
fied  that  they  were  going  to  rejoin  the  company  of  those 
whose  places  had  been  long  “left  void  in  their  earthly 
homes  ”  ;  and,  after  long  yearnings,  to  satisfy  again  “  the 
mighty  hunger  of  the  heart  ”  in  the  fulness  of  eternal 
joy.  Whatever  human  affections  have  been  pure,  fervent, 
self-sacrificing,  devoted,  and  enduring,  look  forward  to 
Heaven  for  their  renewal,  their  resting-place,  and  their 
full  fruition.  If  this  expectation  be  delusive,  what 
instinct  of  the  heart  can  henceforth  be  trusted  ? 

And  the  aspiring  and  spiritual  will  be  at  home  at  last, 
—  those  whose  thoughts  have  been  all  prayer ;  to  whom 
the  blessings  promised  to  the  meek,  the  mourners,  and 
the  merciful  are  as  nothing  compared  to  that  pronounced 
upon  the  “  pure  in  heart  ”  ;  to  whose  thought  all  other 
beauties  of  the  heavenly  city  are  swallowed  up  in  this : 
“  that  there  is  no  need  of  the  Sun,  neither  of  the  Moon, 
to  shine  in  it,  for  the  glory  of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and 
the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof.”  They  shall  see  God. 
What  this  may  mean ;  what  may  be  the  nature  of  that 
vision  by  which  finite  and  created  Beings  can  be  enabled 
to  behold  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  Spirit  of  the  Universe ; 

13* 


298 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


in  what  manner,  or  through  the  bestowal  of  what  new 
powers,  His  awful  Presence  will  be  made  manifest  to  the 
souls  of  the  Just  made  perfect,  we  cannot  even  attempt 
to  realize.  It  may  be  that  the  very  purity  which  they 
have  striven  after  here  and  attained  there,  wdll  endow 
them  with  a  clearness  of  sight  denied  to  the  less  un¬ 
stained  of  the  redeemed,  in  virtue  of  which  they  can 
penetrate  to  the  inner  circle  which  surrounds  the  Throne, 
and  reach  the  immediate  Presence  of  the  Most  High. 


Whether,  in  the  lapse  of  ages  and  in  the  course  oi 
progressive  Being,  the  more  dormant  portions  of  each 
man’s  nature  will  be  called  out,  and  his  desires,  and 
therefore  the  elements  of  his  Heaven,  change ;  whether 
the  loving  will  learn  to  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  the 
fiery  and  energetic  to  value  peace,  and  the  active  and 
earnest  to  grow  weary  of  struggle  and  achievement  and 
to  long  for  tenderness  and  repose,  and  the  rested  to  begin 
a  new  life  of  aspiration,  and  those  who  had  long  lain 
satisfied  with  the  humbler  constituents  of  the  beatific 
state,  to  yearn  after  the  conditions  of  a  loftier  Being,  we 
cannot  tell.  Probably.  It  may  be,  too,  that  the  ten¬ 
dency  of  every  thought  and  feeling  will  be  to  gravitate 
towards  the  great  Centre,  to  merge  in  one  mighty  and  all- 
absorbing  emotion.  The  thirst  for  knowledge  may  find 
its  ultimate  expression  in  the  contemplation  of  the  Divine 
Nature,  —  in  which,  indeed,  all  may  be  contained.  It  may 
be  that  all  longings  will  be-  finally  resolved  into  striving 
after  a  closer  union  with  God,  and  all  human  affections 


ELSEWHERE. 


299 


merged  in  the  desire  to  be  a  partaker  in  His  nature.  It 
may  be  that,  in  future  stages  of  our  progress,  we  shall 
become  more  and  more  severed  from  the  Human  and 
joined  to  the  Divine ;  that,  starting  on  the  threshold  of 
the  Eternal  world  with  the  one  beloved  Being  who  has 
been  the  partner  of  our  thoughts  and  feelings  on  this 
earth,  we  may  find,  as  we  go  forward  to  the  Goal,  and 
soar  upwards  to  the  Throne,  and  dive  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the-  mysteries  and  immensities  of  Creation,  that 
affection  will  gradually  merge  in  Thought,  and  the  crav¬ 
ings  and  yearnings  of  the  Heart  be  calmed  and  super¬ 
seded  by  the  sublimer  interests  of  the  perfected  Intelli¬ 
gence  ;  that  the  hands  which  have  so  long  been  joined  in 
love  may  slowly  unclasp  to  be  stretched  forth  towards 
the  approaching  glory;  that  the  glance  of  tenderness 
which  we  cast  on  the  companion  at  our  side  may  become 
faint,  languid,  and  hurried,  before  the  earnest  gaze  with 
which  we  watch  “  the  light  that  shall  be  revealed.”  We 
might  even  picture  to  ourselves  that  epoch  in  our  progress 
through  successively  loftier  and  more  purified  existences, 
when  those  who  on  earth  strengthened  each  other  in 
every  temptation,  sustained  each  other  under  every  trial, 
mingled  smiles  at  every  joy  and  tears  at  every  sorrow ; 
and  who,  in  succeeding  varieties  of  Being,  hand  in  hand, 
heart  with  heart,  thought  for  thought,  penetrated  together 
each  new  secret,  gained  each  added  height,  glowed  with 
each  new  rapture,  drank  in  each  successive  revelation, 
shall  have  reached  that  point  where  all  separate  individu¬ 
ality  and  all  lower  affections  will  be  merged  in  one 
absorbing  Presence ;  when  the  awful  nearness  of  the  Per- 


300 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


feet  Love  will  dissolve  all  other  ties  and  swallow  up  all 
other  feelings ;  and  when  the  finished  and  completed  Soul, 
before  melting  away  into  that  Sea  of  Light  which  will  be 
its  element  forever,  shall  turn  to  take  a  last  fond  look  of 
the  now  glorified  but  thereby  lost  companion  of  so  much 
anguish  and  so  many  joys  !  *  But  we  cannot  yet  con¬ 
template  the  prospect  without  pain ;  therefore  it  will  not 
be  yet;  not  till  we  can  contemplate  it  with  joy;  for 
Heaven  is  a  scene  of  bliss  and  recompense,  not  of  sorrow 
and  bereavement.  Why  therefore  picture  it  at  all  ? 


All  these  speculations  may  of  course  be  utterly  futile 
and  irrelevant,  and  the  discrepancy  may  be  so  vast  and  so 
essential  between  the  material  and  the  spiritual  world  that 
no  pictures  sketched  by  human  pencil  and  filled  in  with 
earthly  coloring  will  bear  the  faintest  resemblance  to  the 
sublime  and  inconceivable  reality.  Perhaps  no  soul  still 
shrouded  in  the  flesh  can  worthily  or  even  approximately 
dream  of  “  the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed  ”  :  the  mere 
step  from  death  into  the  higher  life  will  so  change,  con¬ 
vulse,  and  re-create  all  the  elements  of  our  Being,  that 
what  now  seems  to  us  supremely  to  be  desired  —  the  fe¬ 
licity  of  which  the  prospect  has  guided,  strengthened,  and 
consoled  us  here,  the  joys  for  which  we  have  cheerfully 

*  “  He  seeks  at  least 
“  Upon  the  last  and  sharpest  height, 

Before  the  spirits  fade  away, 

Some  landing-place  to  clasp,  and  say 
‘  Farewell  !  we  lose  ourselves  in  Light!  ” 


ELSEWHERE. 


301 


bartered  all  the  beautiful  possessions  and  the  rich  promises 
of  Earth  —  may  then  appear  to  our  “  unsealed  vision”  poor, 
pale,  worthless,  and  inadequate,  and  that  the  ineffable 
reality  may  not  only  transcend,  but  utterly  traverse  all  our 
aspirations.  But  if  so,  it  is  obvious  that  the  mere  fact  of 
our  seeing  it  aright  would  cancel  its  influence  upon  us. 
The  action  of  a  future  world  as  a  control  on  our  deeds  and 
a  stimulus  to  our  desires  depends  upon  its  being  such, 
upon  our  believing  it  such  at  least,  as  we  can  conceive  of 
and  aspire  to.  If  it  is  to  operate  upon  us  it  must  be  pic- 
turable  by  us.  Only  through  our  ideas  of  it  can  it  influ¬ 
ence  our  lives. 

Why  then  quarrel  with  our  conceptions  because  neces¬ 
sarily  imperfect,  and  probably  much  more,  —  as  all  finite 
ideas  of  the  Infinite,  all  material  description  of  the  Spirit¬ 
ual,  must  be  ?  Why  seek  after  a  fidelity  of  delineation 
or  an  etherealization  of  conception  of  which  the  conse¬ 
quences  must  be  so  fatal  and  benumbing  ?  Heaven  will 
be,  if  not  what  we  desire  now,  at  least  what  we  shall 
desire  then.  If  it  be  not  contracted  to  our  human  dreams, 
those  dreams  will  be  expanded  to  its  vast  reality.  If  it  be 
not  fitted  for  us,  we  shall  be  prepared  for  it.  In  the  true 
sense,  if  not  in  our  sense,  it  will  be  a  scene  of  serene 
felicity,  the  end  of  toil,  the  end  of  strife,  the  end  of  grief, 
the  end  of  doubt,  —  a  Temple,  a  Haven,  and  a  Home  ! 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


IT  is  not  only  probable,  but,  I  apprehend,  quite  certain, 
that  no  country  is  really  peopled  up  to  its  full  possible 
limit  of  plentiful  subsistence.  But  there  are  two  or  three 
countries  in  Europe  which  may  be  considered  to  approach  this 
limit ;  and  these,  therefore,  we  will  adopt  as  our  standard  of 
comparison,  —  the  more  readily  as  they  differ  materially  in  their 
physical  conditions.  One  of  them,  Belgium,  has  a  climate  by 
no  means  enviable,  and  a  soil  originally  and  in  many  parts  the 
reverse  of  fertile.  Another,  Lombardy,  has  a  soil  naturally 
rich,  a  warm  and  genial  sky,  and  great  facilities  of  irrigation. 
Some  of  the  cantons  of  Switzerland  maintain,  probably,  as  large 
a  population,  and  certainly  as  prosperous  and  well-fed  a  one, 
as  can  anywhere  be  found,  —  Zurich,  Appenzell,  Argovie, 
Thurgovie,  for  example.  Of  these  we  will  select  Zurich  A 
Of  course  the  comparison  we  are  instituting  cannot  be  a  very 
exact  or  rigidly  conclusive  one,  inasmuch  as  countries  vary 
indefinitely  in  their  natural  advantages  and  their  cajmcity  for 
supporting  inhabitants.  Still  there  are  not  many  in  Europe 
much  better  off  in  this  respect  than  Lombardy,  nor  much  less 

*  Some  of  the  cantons,  and  some  which  we  believe  are  more  purely 
agricultural  than  Zurich,  have  even  a  denser  population ;  thus  Basle  has 
420,  Argovie  398,  and  Thurgovie  368  to  the  square  mile. 

T 


306 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


favored  than  Belgium ;  while  Zurich  presents  an  instance  of 
the  condition  which  may  be  reached  by  a  people  who  unite 
good  sense  and  good  government  to  fair  natural  advantages. 

Inhabitants  to  a  Square  Mile  (English). 

Belgium  ....  440  Ireland  .  .  .  .180 

Lombardy  .  .  .  370  German  Confederation  .  180 

Zurich  ....  365  Austria  .  .  .  .164 

England  and  Wales  .  350  Switzerland  ....  157 

Holland  ....  300  Spain  ....  90 

United  Kingdom  .  .  225  Turkey  in  Europe .  .  76 

Italy  .  .  .  .  .  225  Russia  in  Europe  .  .  30 

France  .  .  .  .  180  Sweden ....  22 

It  would  appear  clear  from  this  comparison  that  of  all  the 
states  of  Europe,  only  Great  Britain,  Belgium,  Holland,  Switz¬ 
erland,  and  perhaps  Italy,  can  be  regarded  as  amply  populated. 
There  are  three  of  the  largest  which  assuredly  are  very  far 
from  being  so,  viz.,  Spain,  Russia,  and  Turkey.  France,  with 
a  soil  and  climate  in  the  aggregate  superior  to  those  of  Eng¬ 
land,  supports  only  half  the  numbers,  though  she  supports 
them  no  doubt  more  exclusively  from  the  produce  of  her  own 
soil.  A  great  part  of  the  north  of  European  Russia  is,  we 
know,  unfitted  for  the  production  of  human  food,  though 
yielding  largely  the  materials  for  human  warmth,  clothing,  and 
shelter.  But  no  one  who  is  aware  how  wretched  is  the  state 
of  agriculture  even  in  the  provinces  most  favored  by  nature, 
and  over  what  a  vast  part  of  the  empire  these  provinces  extend, 
and  how  sparse  is  the  population  which  now  inhabits  them, 
can  doubt  that  the  country  as  a  whole  could  support  with  ease 
250,000,000  instead  of  60,000,000  as  at  present.  The  case  of 
Turkey  is  almost  as  strong.  The  productiveness  of  many  of 
its  provinces  is  well  known  ;  yet,  with  the  same  area,  as  France, 


APPENDIX. 


307 


slie  counts  only  16,000,000  of  people,  instead  of  36,000,000, 
and  with  four  times  the  area  of  England,  and  a  far  finer  cli¬ 
mate,  she  only  maintains  a  population  smaller  hy  one  eighth. 
Spain  is  just  as  backward,  and  more  blamable,  for  her  soil 
and  climate  are,  or  might  he  made,  productive  in  the  extreme. 
Her  extent  is  nearly  as  great  as  that  of  France  (183,000  square 
miles  to  207,000),  yet  her  population  per  square  mile  is  only 
one  half  that  of  France  and  one  fourth  that  of  England. 
What  increased  numbers  she  might  support  may  he  guessed 
from  the  fact  that  some  of  her  provinces  do  even  now  show 
nearly  250  to  the  square  mile.  She  might  easily  support 
70,000,000,  instead  of  her  present  16,000,000,  and  still  not 
exceed  the  proportions  of  Belgium,  a  far  less  favored  land. 
Hungary,  too,  ought  to  he  specially  noted.  It  contains  now 
about  11,000,000,  or  not  more  than  135  to  the  square  mile. 
Considering  the  extraordinary  fertility  of  her  soil,  she  might 
unquestionably  find  room  for  30,000,000,  if  human  ignorance 
and  folly  interposed  no  artificial  obstacles.  On  the  whole,  it  is 
a  moderate  calculation  that  the  270,000,000,  of  which  the  pop¬ 
ulation  of  Europe  now  consists,  might  become  500,000,000, 
without  any  crowding  or  necessary  inconvenience. 

A  much  larger  number  is  pointed  at  hy  another  mode  of 
calculation.  It  is  estimated  (for  authorities,  see  Alison  on 
Population,  II.  480)  that  an  acre  of  wheat  can  supply  three 
persons  with  food,  and  an  acre  of  potatoes  ten  persons.  But 
people  must  he  clothed,  housed,  and  warmed  as  well  as  fed ; 
and  for  these  purposes  wood  must  he  planted  and  domestic 
animals  must  he  kept.  We  may  therefore  allot  (say)  one  acre 
and  a  half  to  each  individual  for  all  his  needs,  —  assuredly  a 
liberal  estimate,  for  in  the  Canton  of  Zurich,  an  acre  and  a 
quarter  is  even  now  found  sufficient.  How,  Europe  contains 
2,421,000,000  of  acres  ;  and  if  we  throw  aside  —  being  guided 


308 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


by  the  average  of  Ireland  (one  of  the  worst  lands  in  this 
respect)  —  one  third  as  unavailable  by  reason  of  its  being  water, 
or  rock,  or  high  mountain,  or  unmanageable  bog,  it  would 
still  maintain,  at  the  above  proportion,  1,070,000,000,  or  four 
times  its  present  population.  If  we  allow  two  acres  per  head, 
it  would  support  above  800,000,000. 

I  have  no  idea  of  examining  the  actual  and  possible  density 
of  population  in  Asia  and  Africa  in  any  detail.  Our  knowl¬ 
edge  of  those  quarters  of  the  world  is  too  imperfect,  and  their 
statistics  far  too  loose  to  render  any  such  investigation  in  the 
least  degree  satisfactory.  A  reference  to  a  few  specific  facts  is 
all  that  is  necessary.  Thus,  the  population  of  the  Asiatic 
provinces  of  Turkey  shows  only  24  to  the  square  mile,  yet 
Syria  and  Asia  Minor  and  parts  of  Mesopotamia  are  among  the 
most  favored  countries  in  the  world,  and  used,  in  former  days, 
to  sustain  far  greater  numbers  than  at  present.  To  the  travel¬ 
ler  of  to-day,  they  present  the  appearance  in  many  parts  almost 
of  a  desert  land.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  under  a  good 
government,  and  with  a  sensible  and  energetic  race,  they  might 
contain  ten  times  their  actual  numbers,  and  still  not  approach 
the  density  of  Belgium  or  Lombardy.  Their  16,000,000  may 
easily  become  160,000,000.  Probably  nearly  the  same  may 
be  said  of  Persia. 

The  African  dependencies  of  the  Ottoman  Porte  are  said  to 
contain  only  about  four  inhabitants  to  the  square  mile.  But 
much  of  their  territory  is  desert.  If,  however,  we  look  to 
South  Africa,  we  find  an  almost  unlimited  territory  thinly 
inhabited,  yet  capable  of  rich  cultivation,  and  swarming  with 
animal  life  in  its  lower  phases.  The  entire  of  Africa  is  esti¬ 
mated,  according  to  the  latest  authorities,  to  have  an  area 
of  12,000,000  English  square  miles,  and  a  population  of 
120,000,000,  or  about  10  persons  to  the  square  mile.  But 


APPENDIX. 


309 


British  Africa,  of  which  we  know  most,  has  an  area  of  about 
120,000  square  miles,  and  a  population  of  350,000,  or  not 
three  to  the  square  mile.  It  is  obvious  that  here  we  have 
space  for  nearly  indefinite  expansion.  A  five  or  ten  fold  in¬ 
crease  (that  is,  about  1,000,000,000  for  the  whole  continent) 
would  be  no  extravagant  estimate  of  ultimate  possibilities, 
especially  since  recent  discoveries  have  proved  that  even  Equa¬ 
torial  Africa  can  sustain  large  and  populous  nations  in  what  to 
them  is  plenty. 

But  it  is  in  America  and  Australia  that  we  shall  find  the 
widest  field  for  the  dispersion  and  multiplication  of  mankind. 
America,  it  may  be  said,  is  only  just  beginning  to  be  peopled. 
Except  in  a  few  localities  it  is  only  sprinkled  with  human 
beings.  To  say  nothing  of  the  older  regions  of  the  Hudson’s 
Bay  Territory,  there  is  a  vast  district,  lying  between  Canada 
and  Vancouver’s  Island,  with  scarcely  any  inhabitants,  though 
capable  of  containing  many  millions.*  A  great  portion  of  this 
district  is  represented  as  singularly  fertile,  far  more  so  than 
the  corresponding  longitudes  belonging  to  the  United  States. 
Yet  the  Bed  Biver  is  the  only  settlement  yet  inhabited  by 
Europeans,  and  these  are  few  in  number.  The  day  will  come, 
there  can  be  little  doubt,  when  it  will  be  the  centre  of  a 
nation  of  50,000,000.  The  population  of  the  Canadas  was  in 
1861  only  2,500,000,  or  less  than  eight  to  the  square  mile. 
It  might  easily  become  75,000,000,  or  240  to  the  square  mile. 
As  we  proceed  to  the  United  States,  we  find  that  the  oldest 
provinces,  though  far  the  poorest  by  nature,  are  the  most  densely 
peopled.  The  six  Hew  England  States  averaged,  in  1860,  49 
inhabitants  to  the  square  mile,  Massachusetts  reaching  as  high 
as  130.  The  six  Middle  States,  including  Maryland  and  Ohio, 
averaged  70 ;  Ohio  and  Yew  York,  the  one  with  its  vast 

*  Article  in  “Edinburgh  Review,”  British  America,  April,  1864. 


310 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


tracts  of  rich  soil,  and  the  other  with  its  commerce,  industry, 
and  great  cities  into  the  bargain,  only  showing  densities  of 
about  62  and  80  respectively.  We  say  nothing  of  the  slave 
States,  which  only  averaged  18  to  the  square  mile,  nor  of  the 
desolate  territory  near  the  Rocky  Mountains.  But  if  the 
seven  Northwestern  States  and  Texas  were  peopled  even  to  the 
extent  that  New  England  and  New  York  have  already  reached, 
—  say  60  to  the  square  mile, — they  would  contain  a  popula¬ 
tion  of  30,000,000 ;  200,000,000  is  a  moderate  estimate  for 
the  future  members  of  the  Great  Republic. 

Mexico  is  a  splendid  country,  of  vast  capabilities,  both  of 
soil  and  climate.  Its  present  population  is  estimated  at 
8,000,000,  or  about  eight  to  the  square  mile.  In  Humboldt’s 
day,  a  far  larger  area  contained  only  5,800,000  souls.  The 
country,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  would  be  scantily  peopled 
at  160  to  the  square  mile,  or  twenty-fold  its  present  number  of 
inhabitants.  Of  Central  America  we  know  little,  except  that 
its  population  was  once  far  greater  than  at  present.  Parts 
only  of  its  surface  are  unhealthy,  and  even  these,  probably,  not 
necessarily  or  incurably  so.  The  best  geographers  estimate  its 
actual  inhabitants  at  about  2,000,000,  or  13  to  the  square 
mile.  It  certainly  might  maintain  five  or  ten  fold  that  num¬ 
ber.  As  for  South  America,  it  is  impossible  to  state,  with  any 
approach  to  accuracy,  either  what  numbers  it  does  or  might 
contain.  Enormous  areas  of  its  surface  cannot  be  said  to  be 
inhabited  at  all,  though  very  copiously  endowed  by  nature. 


Thus, 


Chili  has  to  the  square  mile  about  . 

“  “  nearly 


u 


u 


Brazil 
Peru 
Paraguay 
The  Argentine  Republic 
Uruguay  and  Patagonia 


u 


u 


(C 


« 


u 


6 

3 
2 

4 

1 

1 


not 


APPENDIX. 


311 


There  is  certainly  ample  room  yet  for  200,000,000  or 
300,000,000  on  the  continent  of  South  America,  and  as  cer¬ 
tainly  for  another  100,000,000  —  probably  twice  or  thrice  that 
number  (for  each  successive  exploration  discovers  fresh  wealth 
of  fertile  land)  —  in  the  great  colonies  of  Australasia.* 

No  one  who  even  looks  over  these  statistics  can  avoid  the 
conclusion  that  the  earth  is  not  yet  one  quarter  —  perhaps  not 
one  tenth  —  peopled.  No  one  who  reads  books  of  travels  in 
much  detail  can  avoid  having  this  conclusion  deepened  into  a 
vivid  impression  and  conviction.  The  entire  population  of 
the  globe  is  calculated  by  the  best  geographers  to  be  about 
1,100,000,000,  and  probably  this  is  rather  an  extreme  estimate. 
Of  this,  Europe  furnishes  nearly  300,000,000,  and  Asia  up¬ 
wards  of  600,000,000,  leaving  only  two  for  the  vast  continents 
of  North  and  South  America,  Africa,  and  Australia.  We 
cannot  form  even  an  approximate  conjecture  of  the  length  of 
time  which  has  been  needed  for  the  prolific  powers  of  man, 
acting  under  the  disadvantageous  circumstances  of  comparative 
ignorance  and  social  barbarism,  to  people  the  world  up  to  its 
present  numbers.  It  may  have  been  20,000  years  ;  it  may 
have  been  200,000  ;  it  may  have  been  incomparably  more. 
No  one,  we  fancy,  whose  opinion  is  worth  considering  on  a 

*  The  average  density  of  the  two  Americas  is  about  6  to  the  square 
mile.  “The  Gazetteer  of  the  World ’’states  that  of  Africa  at  7,  of 
Asia  32,  and  of  Europe  at  82.  These,  however,  are  only  rough  esti¬ 
mates. 

New  Zealand  contains  as  nearly  as  may  be  the  same  acreage  as  the 
British  Isles,  but  New  Zealand  has  only  a  population  of  100,000,  Britain 
a  population  of  30,000,000,  or  300  times  as  great,  yet  New  Zealand  is 
probably  superior  to  our  islands  both  in  soil  and  climate.  Australasia 
has  a  larger  area  than  Europe, — upwards  of  3,000,000  square  miles. 
There  is  nothing,  so  far  as  we  know  at  present,  to  forbid  the  expectation 
that  it  may  one  day  maintain  an  equal  population. 


312 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


scientific  question,  would  place  it  below  the  smallest  figure  I 
have  named.  No  doubt  the  increase  of  the  human  race  may¬ 
be  expected  to  proceed  at  an  accelerated  pace  in  future,  unless 
there  should  be  some  retarding  influence  among  yet  unrecog¬ 
nized  physiological  laws,  such  as  we  have  hinted  at.  Agri¬ 
culture  has  made  vast  improvements ;  famines  are  not  to  be 
dreaded  as  formerly ;  few  now  in  any  country  die  of  want, 
and  fewer  will  die  from  this  cause  every  year,  as  the  world 
grows  older  ;  communication  between  distant  lands  —  between 
those  whose  population  is  redundant  and  those  whose  land  is 
cheap  and  plentiful  —  becomes  easier  day  by  day,  and  man¬ 
kind  may  now  disperse  as  fast  as  they  multiply ;  wars,  too, 
and  pestilence  may,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  grow  rarer  and  less  deso¬ 
lating  ;  and  assuredly  the  average  duration  of  individual  life 
is  on  the  increase.  Still  it  is  plain  that,  before  the  earth  can 
be  peopled  up  to  its  fair  limit  of  density,  —  the  limit,  that  is, 
compatible  with  an  ample  supply  of  the  necessaries  and  com¬ 
forts  of  life,  —  a  sufficient  number  of  generations  or  ages  must 
elapse  to  permit  all  the  influences  developed  by  civilization  to 
expand  and  operate.  Time  is  all  we  want,  and  time,  in  ade¬ 
quate  measure,  we  may  surely  count  upon. 

Not  only  is  the  earth  not  yet  a  quarter  peopled,  but  even 
the  inhabited  portion  is  scarcely  yet  a  quarter  cultivated.  In 
many  countries  the  soil  is  barely  scratched.  Even  in  England 
it  is  not  made  to  yield  on  an  average  to  more  than  one  half  of 
its  capacity.  Perhaps  only  in  Belgium,  Switzerland,  and  Lom¬ 
bardy  do  the  actual  and  the  potential  produce  of  the  soil  in 
any  measure  correspond.  We  can  pretend  to  no  accurate  esti¬ 
mate  of  the  number  of  bushels  of  wheat,  or  tons  of  hay  or 
of  root  crops  which  an  acre  of  ordinary  land  under  good  farm¬ 
ing  might  be  made  to  yield,  nor  to  any  statement,  provab  .. 
by  authentic  statistics,  of  what  such  land  does  yield,  as 


APPENDIX. 


313 


present  handled.  All  we  can  do  is  to  collect  a  certain  number 
of  reliable  facts  from  the  best  authorities  bearing  on  such 
comparison.  The  conclusion  will  be  as  convincing  as  if  we 
were  able  to  draw  it  out  in  formally  calculated  tables. 

The  average  yield  of  wheat  in  England  is  considered  to  be 
about  3-|  quarters,  or  26  bushels  per  acre.  The  author  of  “  Lois 
Wheedon  Husbandry,”  on  not  special  land,  and  with  no 
manure  beyond  the  straw,  obtained  for  19  years  an  average  of 
34  bushels.  A  farmer  in  Hertfordshire,  also  not  peculiarly 
favored,  averages  30  from  all  his  land,  and  has  often  reached 
47,  and  even  57  bushels  per  acre.  Mr.  Lawes,  another  farmer 
in  the  same  county,  has  averaged  35  and  36  for  12  years,  and, 
in  1863  and  1864,  he  reached  as  high  as  from  40  to  55, 
according  to  the  manure  he  used  (“  Times,”  October  19,  1864). 
Even  60  bushels  to  the  acre  has  been  achieved  in  good  years. 

Of  oats  in  England,  the  ordinary  yield  is  40  bushels  to  the 
acre.  But  60  are  often  reached,  and  80  by  no  means  unfre- 
quently. 

In  Ireland  the  average  of  wheat  is  about  24  bushels  to  the 
statute  acre,  and  of  oats  about  40.  The  variation  between  the 
produce  of  different  counties  in  the  same  year  is  enormous, 
ranging  from  7-J  cwts.  to  12  cwts.  of  wheat,  and  from  11  to  19 
cwts.  of  oats  ;  and  in  the  same  counties,  in  different  years,  from 
8  to  14  cwts. 

Of  mangel  wurzel,  some  farmers  grow  30  tons,  and  some  60 
or  64  to  the  acre.  Of  swedes,  some  16,  and  others  40  tons. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  average  actual  produce  of  cereals 
and  root  crops  in  England  falls  short,  probably  by  one  half, 
of  what  it  might  be,  even  with  our  present  lights  and  practice, 
and  of  what  actually  is  obtained  by  individuals  in  many 
instances.  Belgium  and  Lombardy  surpass  our  best  farming, 

14 


314 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


with  perhaps  very  few  exceptions.  It  is  stated  (“  Gazetteer 
of  the  World  ”)  that  the  wheat  yield  of  Belgium  is  32  bushels 
for  2  of  seed,  or  sixteen-fold ;  whereas  that  of  Great  Britain 
is  only  eight  to  ten  fold.*  But  France,  we  find,  falls  as  far 
short  of  England’s  average  in  its  agricultural  productiveness,  as 
England’s  average  falls  short  of  England’s  best.  France  has  as 
good  a  soil  and  a  far  better  climate  than  we  have,  and,  to  set 
against  deficient  science  and  inadequate  manure,  has  the  ad¬ 
vantage  of  la  'petite  culture  in  a  very  high  degree.  Yet,  on  the 
unquestionable  authority  of  M.  Leonce  de  Lavergne,  its  yield 
in  every  article  is  only  half  of  ours.  The  following  are  a  few 
of  his  statements  :  f  — 

The  yield  of  oats  in  England  is  5  quarters  to  the  acre,  and 
sometimes  as  high  as  10  ;  in  France  it  is  only  2J  quarters. 
The  yield  of  wheat  in  England  is  3  J  quarters  to  the  acre,  or 
25  hectolitres  to  the  hectare  ;  that  of  France  averages  only  12 
hectolitres  to  the  hectare.  In  the  case  of  animal  production 
the  disproportion  is  even  greater.  England  is  estimated  to 
maintain  two  sheep  per  hectare ;  France  only  two  thirds  of  one 
sheep.  Each  cow  in  England  is  estimated  to  yield  1,000  litres 
of  milk ;  in  France  only  500.  The  average  yield  in  meats  of 
cattle  slain  in  France  for  food  is  100  kilogs.  ;  in  England  250. 
“  With  8,000,000  head  of  cattle  and  30,000,000  of  hectares  to 
feed  them  on,  British  agriculture  produces  500,000,000  of 
kilogs.  of  meat.  France,  with  10,000,000  head  and  53,000,000 
of  hectares,  only  400,000,000  of  kilogs.”  M.  Leonce  de 
Lavergne  sums  up  by  a  calculation,  showing  the  entire  gross 
produce  of  soil  (animals  and  vegetables)  in  the  two  countries, 

*  McCulloch  (Geog.  Diet.)  states  the  produce  of  the  Waes  County, 
the  most  fertile  and  highly  cultivated  part  of  Flanders,  to  be  20^  bushels 
of  wheat  and  41  of  oats  to  the  acre. 

t  Economic  Rurale  de  l’Angleterre,  c.  ii.,  iii.,  iv. 


APPENDIX. 


315 


the  result  of  which  is  that  England  yields  200  francs’  worth 
per  hectare,  and  France  only  100  francs. 

We  are  accustomed  to  consider  the  western  provinces  of 
Canada  and  the  United  States  as  offering  about  the  most  fertile 
and  unlimited  wheat-fields  in  the  world.  Nearly  boundless  in 
extent  they  certainly  are,  and,  for  the  most,  of  extraordinary 
natural  fertility.  But  this  only  enhances  our  surprise  at  find¬ 
ing  how  very  moderate  the  present  yield,  even  of  their  best 
lands,  actually  is,  and  our  conception  of  the  vast  difference 
between  what  they  do  and  what  they  might  produce.  The 
best  lands  in  Canada,  and  Michigan,  and  Illinois,  for  example, 
are  far  superior,  both  in  soil  and  climate,  to  the  good  lands  of 
England ;  yet  neither  their  average  nor  their  maximum  produce 
in  wheat  approaches  ours.  Our  average,  be  it  remembered,  is 
about  26  bushels  to  the  acre,  and  our  maximum  may  be  put  at 
60.  In  the  State  of  New  York  the  average  is  14,  and  the 
maximum  about  20.  In  Michigan  the  average  is  11,  and  the 
maximum  18.  In  New  Brunswick  the  usual  yield  is  18,  in 
Canada  West  13,  in  Ohio  15.  Yet  in  most  of  these  districts 
the  soil  is  represented  to  be  of  almost  inexhaustible  richness, 
—  virgin  soil  in  fact.  The  above  figures  are  collected  from 
Johnstone’s  “  Notes  on  North  America,”  a  first-rate  authority 
on  these  subjects.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  English 
farming  on  Michigan  or  Ohio  land  would  give  a  result  far 
exceeding  anything  yet  obtained  in  either  country ;  and  why 
should  this  combination  not  be  ?  Is  it  not  certain  that  some 
day  or  other  it  will  be  h  In  order  to  give  some  conception  of 
the  vast  space  yet  to  be  travelled  over  before  even  the  culti¬ 
vated  portions  of  the  temperate  regions  yield  the  amount  of 
human  sustenance  that  they  are  capable  of  yielding,  we  will 
place  some  of  the  above  facts  in  a  tabular  form,  calling  atten¬ 
tion  merely  to  the  circumstance  that  the  soil  and  climate  (those 


316 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


of  Great  Britain)  which  stand  at  the  head  of  the  list  are,  of 
all  those  mentioned,  about  the  least  favored  by  nature. 


•oduce  of  Wheat  per  Statute  Acre 

in  Bushels. 

Michigan 

average 

.  11 

Canada  West 

u 

• 

13 

France 

u 

•  ft 

.  13 

New  York 

a 

ft 

14 

Ohio 

it 

ft  ft 

.  15 

New  Brunswick 

it 

ft 

18 

American 

maximum 

.  19 

Belgian 

u 

20 

English 

average 

.  26 

maximum  . 

60* 

Possible  American  “ 

.  80 

It  is  clear  from  the  above  comparison  that  we  are  not  over¬ 
stating  the  case,  when  we  say  that  the  actual  produce  of  some 
of  the  most  extensive  and  fertile  wheat-fields  in  the  world  is 
not  above  one  third  of  the  potential  produce,  even  on  the  loose 
agricultural  system  which  at  present  prevails  almost  universally. 
And  the  same  proportion  probably  holds  good  of  nearly  all 
other  crops.  But  a  few  facts,  fully  ascertained  and  placed 
beyond  doubt,  will  suffice  to  satisfy  us  that  an  increase  far 
beyond  what  has  been  just  mentioned  is  within  our  reach. 

Economy  of  seed  is  one  mode  in  which  the  available  yield  of 
cereals  may  be  greatly  increased.  The  ordinary  consumption 
of  seed  wheat  in  the  broadcast  sowing  commonly  practised  is 
2J  bushels,  or  10  pecks,  to  the  acre,  and  this,  as  we  have  seen, 
yields  an  average  crop  of  about  26  bushels,  or  tenfold.  In 
drilling,  or  “  dibbling,”  1  bushel,  or  4  pecks,  is  held  to  suffice, 
and  to  yield  heavier  crops,  —  often  30  bushels,  or  thirty  fold. 

*  This  is  the  maximum  yet  reported  in  regular  farming.  Mr.  Hallett, 
however,  by  his  process  of  wide  sowing  and  selection,  had  reached  a  rate 
of  108  bushels  per  acre  (“  Journ.  Agric.  Soc.,”  XXII.  p.  377). 


APPENDIX. 


317 


In  one  case  4  pecks  of  seed  yielded  40  bushels,  or  forty-fold. 
One  experiment  tried  in  the  State,  of  New  York,  where  only 
2  pecks  of  seed  were  used,  showed  a  yield  at  the  rate  of  80 
bushels  to  the  acre,  or  one  hundred  and  sixty  fold.  (“  Year 
Book  of  Agricultural  Facts,”  1860,  pp.  110,  129,  131.)  But 
all  these  cases  fade  into  insignificance  before  those  recorded  by 
Mr.  Hallett,  as  the  result  of  a  long  series  of  careful  experi¬ 
ments.  The  extent  to  which  economy  of  seed  is  possible  may 
be  guessed  from  the  statement  made  in  reference  to  the  “  tiller¬ 
ing,”  or  horizontal  spreading  out  of  the  seeds  of  wheat,  “  that 
the  stems  produced  from  a  single  grain  having  perfect  freedom 
of  growth  will,  in  the  spring,  while  lying  flat  on  the  surface, 
extend  over  a  circle  three  feet  in  diameter,  producing  at  harvest 
50  or  60  ears.”  Now,  an  ear  contains  sometimes  50  grains  or 
more.  The  above  increase,  therefore,  is  2,500  at  least.  Of 
the  extent  to  which  economy  of  seed  has  been  practically  car¬ 
ried  experimentally,  we  can  produce  no  more  signal  or  instruc¬ 
tive  instance  than  the  following  :  Two  adjacent  fields,  similar 
in  all  respects,  were  selected,  and  sown  with  the  same  seed 
wheat.  In  the  one  case  6  pecks  per  acre  were  sown,  and 
yielded  54  bushels,  or  934,000  ears  ;  in  the  other  case,  4J 
pints  per  acre  were  used,  planting  them  in  single  grains  a  foot 
apart,  and  the  yield  was  1,002,000  ears,  or  a  larger  quantity 
than  was  produced  at  the  other  side  of  the  hedge  from  more 
than  twenty-one  times  the  seed  employed.  (“Journal  of  Agricult¬ 
ural  Society,”  XXII.  p.  372,  et  seq.)  But,  allowing  this  to  be 
an  extreme  case,  it  is  clear  that  2  pecks,  if  not  1,  will  suffice 
where  1 0  are  now  habitually  used ;  and  the  saving  thus  effect¬ 
ive  would  be  equivalent  to  a  virtual  increase  of  the  wheat 
crop  from  8  to  10  per  cent.* 

*  Mr.  Hallett  found  that  a  field  planted  with  6  pecks  per  acre  yielded 
only  54  bushels,  and  one  of  inferior  soil,  planted  with  one  peck,  yielded 


318 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Selection  of  seed  is  another  point  to  be  noticed.  Of  the 
gain  attainable  by  this  precaution,  the  celebrated  “pedigree 
wheat”  exhibited  in  1861  maybe  cited  as  probably  the  best 
example.  In  the  article  just  referred  to,  published  in  the 
“Journal  of  the  Agricultural  Society,”  Mr.  Hallett  gives  a 
detailed  account  of  his  experiments,  and  their  remarkably 
successful  result.  By  simply  selecting  a  couple  of  ears  of 
moderate  size,  and  excellent  quality  originally,  and  then,  in 
successive  years,  sowing  only,  and  carefully,  the  best  and  largest 
grains  from  the  produce  thus  inaugurated,  he  had  in  five  years 
doubled  the  length  of  the  ear,  increased  the  number  of  ears 
springing  from  one  grain  from  10  to  52,  and  the  number  of 
grains  in  the  ear  from  47  to  123.  I  will  not  go  into  any  fur¬ 
ther  detail,  which,  for  my  purpose,  is  quite  unnecessary ;  but 
two  points  brought  out  by  Mr.  Hallett  are  important  as  show¬ 
ing  the  possible  powers  of  reproduction  in  the  wheat  plant 
when  properly  treated  :  “I  have  now  (he  says)  a  field  of  seven 
acres  planted  with  the  produce  of  a  single  grain  planted  two 
years  ago,  —  one  acre  of  it  with  the  produce  of  a  single  ear 
planted  one  year  ago.”  Again  :  the  ordinary  yield  in  fair 
farming,  that  is,  where  two  bushels  of  wheat  are  used  for  seed, 
he  states,  is  considered  to  be  about  one  ear,  or  100  grains,  for 
every  two  grains  sown,  or  about  50  fold.  His  best  grain 
produced  the  first  year  688  fold ;  after  two  years’  repeated 
selection,  1,190  fold;  and  after  four  years,  2,145  fold. 

The  use  of  appropriate  manures  is  another  mode  by  which 
the  produce  of  the  soil  may  be  increased  to  an  amount  as  yet 
incalculable.  Though  careful  husbandry,  such  as  is  practised  in 
Belgium  and  Lombardy,  and  in  some  parts  of  France,  where 

57  bushels,  showing  that  the  extra  quantity  of  seed  used  was  worse  than 
thrown  away.  He  estimates  the  average  waste  of  wheat  thus  caused  in 
England  at  a  million  of  quarters  annually  (Yol.  XXII.  p.  380). 


APPENDIX. 


319 


la  petite  culture  prevails,  is  by  no  means  in  its  infancy,  yet 
scientific  husbandry  is.  By  scientific  husbandry,  I  mean  the 
adaptation  of  the  crop  to  the  soil,  and  the  use  of  appropriate 
manures  which  will  return  to  the  earth  what  the  present  crop 
needs,  or  what  previous  crops  have  exhausted.  Attention  to, 
and  comprehension  of,  the  latter  point,  date  from  Professor 
Liebig’s  works,  that  is,  from  our  Own  time,  and  indeed  are  not 
yet  diffused.  Thousands  of  facts  bearing  on  the  subject  might 
be  accumulated,  but  they  are  not  needed.  We  will  cull  a  few, 
mainly  from  Liebig’s  “  Modern  Agriculture.”  Where  an  unma¬ 
nured  plot  yielded  15  pounds  of  grain,  and  a  similar  plot, 
supplied  with  inappropriate  manure,  gave  16  pounds,  the  plot 
treated  with  the  fitting  nutriment  gave  36  pounds  (p.  57). 
Mr.  Lawes  records  an  experiment  where  the  proportionate 
result  was  as  follows  (p.  77) :  — - 

Yield  without  manure  .  .  .  1,000  pounds. 

With  one  sort  of  manure  .  .  1,690  “ 

With  the  right  manure  .  .  .  2,000  “ 

Liebig  considers  (p.  267)  that  by  the  use  and  improvement 
of  phosphate  of  lime,  “the  amount  of  provender  for  cattle  has 
been  increased  as  much  as  if  the  area  of  every  field  for  green 
crops  had  been  doubled.”  What  the  introduction  of  guano 
has  done  for  agriculture,  —  especially  for  the  turnip  *  and  the 
sugar-cane,  —  we  have  all  a  general  idea.  A  couple  of  hundred 
weight  per  acre,  according  to  Lawes  and  Caird,  will,  even  for 
wheat,  give  an  increase  of  eight  bushels  of  grain,  or  30  per 
cent,  besides  25  per  cent  in  straw;  and  one  ton  of  guano  is 
equal  in  value  to  33  tons  of  ordinary  farm-yard  manure  (“  ISTes- 
bit’s  History  of  Guano,”  pp.  21,  25). 

*  In  one  case  the  unmanured  field  yielded  17  tons,  and  that  treated 
with  guano  31  tons  (“  Journ.  Agric.  Soc.,”  XXII.  p.  86). 


320 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


Again :  another  indication  of  the  vast  increase  of  food 
obtainable  from  land  already  settled  and  cultivated  may  be 
found  in  a  comparison  of  the  number  of  cattle  and  sheep  which 
may  he  kept  on  a  given  acreage,  by  merely  grazing,  and  by 
arable  cultivation  and  stall  feeding,  either  exclusively  or  in 
combination  with  grazing.  Thus,  a  cow  requires  from  three  to 
four  acres  of  pasture  land  ;  whereas  one  acre  of  well-managed 
land  under  tillage  would  suffice  ;  some  say  even  less.  (Consult 
Morton’s  “  Cyclopaedia  of  Agriculture.”)  If  this  be  correct, 
the  production  of  animal  food  might  be  doubled  in  Great 
Britain,  and  trebled  nearly  everywhere  else,  by  a  simple  change 
of  system,  and  the  application  of  more  labor  to  the  soil,  with¬ 
out  the  addition  of  a  single  acre.  M.  Leonce  de  Lavergne 
states  that,  on  an  average,  England  keeps  two  sheep  on  a  hectare, 
and  France  only  two  thirds  of  a  sheep.  In  the  case  of  cattle 
the  comparison  is  still  more  unfavorable  to  France,  both  as 
regards  the  size  and  number  of  animals.  The  milk  yielded 
by  each  cow  is  double  in  England,  and  “  with  8,000,000 
head  on  30,000,000  hectares,  England  produces  500,000,000 
of  kilos,  of  meat,  while  France,  with  10,000,000  head  on 
53,000,000  hectares,  only  produces  400,000,000  kilos.”  Thus 
France  has  not  only  a  vast  distance  to  travel  before  she  reaches 
England,  but  England  has  at  least  as  far  to  travel  before  she 
reaches  an  easily  attainable  ideal.  Other  countries,  a  fortiori, 
are  still  further  behind  the  possible. 

There  is  yet  another  mode  in  which  the  amount  of  human 
life  sustainable  on  a  given  area,  and  therefore  throughout  the 
chief  portion  of  the  habitable  globe,  may  be  almost  indefinitely 
increased,  viz.,  by  a  substitution  pro  tanto  of  vegetable  for 
animal  food.  Practically,  of  course,  we  should  never  wish  to 
encounter  the  risk  of  again  feeding  a  whole  people  mainly  on 
potatoes,  though  Irishmen  have  thriven  on  that  diet,  and 


APPENDIX. 


321 


though  an  acre  in  potatoes  will  sustain  three  times  the  amount 
of  human  life  of  an  acre  in  wheat.  But  a  given  acreage  of 
wheat  will  feed  at  least  ten  times  as  many  men  as  the  same 
acreage  employed  in  growing  mutton.  It  is  usually  calculated 
that  the  consumption  of  wheat  by  an  adult  is  about  one  quar¬ 
ter  per  annum,  and  we  know  that  good  land  produces  four 
quarters.  But  let  us  assume  that  a  man  confined  to  bread 
would  need  two  quarters  a  year ;  still  one  acre  would  support 
two  men.  But  a  man  confined  to  meat  would  require  3  pounds 
a  day,  and  it  is  considered  a  liberal  calculation  if  an  acre  spent 
in  grazing  sheep  and  cattle  will  yield  in  beef  or  mutton  more 
than  50  pounds  on  an  average,  —  the  best  farmer  in  Norfolk 
having  averaged  90  pounds,  but  a  great  majority  of  farms  in 
Great  Britain  only  reaching  20  pounds.  On  these  data,  it 
would  require  22  acres  of  pasture  land  to  sustain  one  adult 
if  fed  only  meat.  It  is  obvious,  that  here,  again,  is  the  indi¬ 
cation  of  a  vast  possible  increase  in  the  population  sustainable 
on  a  given  area. 

But  there  is  much  more  yet,  all  tending  in  the  same  direc¬ 
tion,  and  confirming  our  former  inferences,  if  it  were  needful, 
or  if  we  had  time  to  go  into  it.  There  is  an  enormous  area 
employed  in  the  production  of  mere  superfluities,  such  as 
tobacco,  and  in  disy^ensable  luxuries  like  tea  and  wine.  There 
are  the  boundless  riches  of  the  sea,  as  yet  not  half  explored, 
or  utilized,  or  economized.  We  all  know  how  salmon  has  been 
rendered  scarce,  and  how  easily  it  might  again  be  made  plentiful, 
as  shown  by  Alexander  Russel,  in  his  entertaining  book.  If 
sea-fisheries  were  protected  by  a  law  making  it  illegal  to 
destroy  fish  while  breeding,  giving  them,  that  is,  a  couple 
of  months’  immunity,  it  is  calculated  that  this  article  of 
food  might  be  at  once  increased  tenfold  in  quantity,  and 
probably  reduced  twenty-fold  in  price.  For  every  female 

14*  U 


322 


ENIGMAS  OF  LIFE. 


mackerel  or  herring  destroyed  in  full  roe,  about  500,000  ova 
perish. 

Finally,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  cooking  — 
scientific  cooking,  that  is,  by  which  we  mean  the  intelligent 
treatment  of  food  so  as  to  extract  from  it  the  utmost  amount 
of  healthful  nutriment  —  is  in  its  infancy,  or,  rather,  has  scarcely 
entered  into  life.  Probably  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  at 
present,  owing  to  our  ignorance,  carelessness,  and  clumsiness 
on  this  head,  —  added  to  the  extravagance  and  excess  of  some, 
—  one  half  the  food  consumed  is  wasted ;  and  that  twice  the 
numbers  now  living  on  the  globe  —  certainly  in  many  of  the 
most  civilized  countries  of  it  —  might  be  maintained  on  the 
existing  produce  of  the  soil. 


THE  END. 


Cambridge  :  Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


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